Return of the Sith
by Anla'shok Ivanova
Summary: An AU post-TPM epic. Years after the events of TPM, Darth Sidious returns to Naboo to exact revenge upon those who brought about the death of his apprentice, Darth Maul. It falls to Naboo's queen and her unlikely allies to stop him.


Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and   
situations created and owned by Lucasfilm, Ltd. No   
money is being made and no infringement is intended.   
Suing me really isn't worth it; I am but a poor   
starving college student with little to her name. And   
all I intend for this story is to toss it out there   
where maybe, just maybe, someone will enjoy reading   
it.  
  
Author's Note: This is the first fanfic I've written   
in an age and a half. I'm out of practice, and I   
thought writing this would help me get back into   
things. It's not exactly epic, but there are a few   
interesting twists for those of you who are fond of   
alternate storylines. "Return of the Sith" takes   
place in a time when Qui-Gon Jinn survived the battle   
with Darth Maul and has been exiled by the Jedi   
council, among other things.  
  
"Return of the Sith"   
by Christine Anderson  
alias Elayne Trakand  
  
It was near to nightfall on the planet Naboo. In the   
last moments of hazy sunlight, Amidala Naberrie   
walked slowly along the outermost edge of the palace   
gardens. From a distance, she could hear the laughter   
of children, and the soft rushing of the waterfalls.   
The city of Theed seemed as always a place of peace,   
of calmness. Though it had not been long since their   
peace had been shattered.  
  
Walking beside her in the gardens, leaning ever so   
slightly upon her arm, was the Jedi Master Qui-Gon   
Jinn. They walked in silence, neither wanting to   
speak nor wishing to be alone.  
  
With a sigh, Amidala sat upon an ornately carved   
stone bench to the side of the garden path. The Jedi   
Master paused and turned to face her, his cloak   
dusting the stone pathway he stood upon. His gaze   
fell upon the young queen, and lingered there. He   
might have spoken, but gasped in sudden pain.  
  
Amidala winced. The wounds he had suffered in the   
defense of her world- in defense of her -had healed   
as much as they were ever likely to, but he was still   
often plagued by pains such as these, pains that came   
without warning. The Naboo had done all they could   
for the Jedi Master in the years since he'd been   
injured, and indeed it was only as a result of their   
help that he had recovered as much as he had, but   
still Amidala wished they could have done more.  
  
Without another thought, she sprang to her feet and   
took his arm, drawing him towards the bench.  
  
"Thank you, Your Highness," the Jedi Master said.  
  
A smile quirked at the corners of Amidala's mouth;   
she tried and failed to hide it. "All that you have   
done for this world, and yet you still stand upon   
ceremony. But I cannot allow an injured man to stand   
while I sit. A queen I may be, but I refuse to fall   
victim to the thoughtless arrogance so often   
associated with royalty."  
  
"Your Highness, if you only knew how often I do *not*   
stand upon ceremony..." Qui-Gon smiled somewhat   
wryly.  
  
Amidala returned the smile with the same feeling   
behind it, having seen the attitudes of the other   
Jedi towards this one of their number when they had   
come for what they presumed would be his funeral, not   
all that many years ago. She had seen what might have   
been regret upon their faces when they learned that   
he lived still, feelings they let show because they   
thought no eyes were upon them.  
  
And indeed no eyes had been, save hers. She might   
have been a queen, but she was a queen who was   
accustomed to clinging to the shadows when she chose,   
and could remain silent and hidden far better than   
many who knew her might ever suspect.  
  
Including the Jedi Master, who had in the years since   
the Battle of Naboo become a dear and true friend to   
her. As for what she had seen and heard that day, she   
was determined that her friend would never know of   
it, unless she found it was absolutely necessary to   
tell him. The Jedi carried far too much upon his   
shoulders already, and she would not add to its   
weight unless she had to.  
  
"Please, Master Jinn. My name is Amidala. Your   
Highness and the Queen have been left behind in the   
throne room, and may they stay there until they are   
needed again. Beyond that single room, I wish very   
much to be simply Amidala."  
  
He nodded, and the look in his eyes was one of   
understanding. "Amidala? Not Padme?"  
  
She laughed softly. "No. Padme is- an alter ego, of   
sorts. She is who I once became when I sought an   
escape. None outside of my handmaidens and Captain   
Panaka knew. Sabe helped me to carry out the ruse."   
She paused shortly after speaking the name of the   
handmaiden who had been friend as well as near-  
identical stand-in, and who had fallen in a senseless   
attack not all that long ago. "And yet even in   
handmaiden's garb, I still hid who and what I was. I   
find that life of fiction... distasteful."  
  
"It is no crime to wish to be yourself, Amidala.   
Though for a Queen, I must say it is a bit more   
difficult."  
  
"That it is, sir. That it is. But I am determined to   
see it happen one day, nonetheless."  
  
"Then one day it will happen," Qui-Gon replied. "I   
know you to be a rather- determined young woman."  
  
"Stubborn might be more accurate, though determined   
is more tactful." She paused. "You need not be   
tactful, Master Jinn, and in fact I would prefer it   
if you were not. There are too many already who would   
tell me what they think I wish to hear, rather than   
the truth."  
  
*She has such great wisdom for one so young,* he   
thought. Aloud, he said, "Then the truth is what you   
shall have, Amidala. And, please- only my padawans   
must call me Master."  
  
"Very well," she replied, smiling broadly, a sparkle   
in her brown eyes like a gemstone amid dark soil. She   
extended a slim hand, still smiling. "It is a   
pleasure to meet you, Qui-Gon. My name is Amidala."  
  
He smiled, took her hand, and kissed it. "The   
pleasure is mine."  
  
"I-" Amidala began, but never went any farther.   
Approaching footsteps made her pause, frozen with   
shock. Who had dared intrude upon her here, when she   
had only moments ago begun to feel truly safe? Who   
had dared to defy her command, spoken as the Queen,   
to leave her be for this one day alone?  
  
The footsteps drew closer, and a blue-robed figure   
came into view. Senator Duncan Palpatine, Naboo's   
representative to the Galactic Senate. He smiled at   
her, a smile with more tension than warmth behind it.   
Something was wrong, that much was clear.  
  
"Your Highness," Palpatine said with a graceful bow.  
  
She nodded in greeting. "Senator."  
  
"You're looking well, Your Highness."  
  
Amidala smiled, though she still had the sense that   
there was something wrong. Something in the Senator's   
expression... "Spare me the 'Highness's, Duncan, at   
least until the Queen returns. Please?"  
  
Palpatine smiled. "Certainly, child." He and the Jedi   
exchanged knowing looks. "Oh, I do apologize, old   
friend- have you been introduced to this fascinating   
young woman? Her name is Amidala..."  
  
Amidala shook her head, stifling a laugh behind hands   
that shook. "Between the two of you, I believe the   
gods can rest assured that I will never loose my good   
humor. Now, then. Duncan-" Then her voice faltered,   
and failed her, because she had it. The strange   
expression, barely visible at all even to one who   
knew him as well as she, was fear. He was afraid, and   
she had rarely, if ever, seen him afraid. Even when   
the Trade Federation had shattered the peace of Naboo   
and threatened their very way of life, even then he   
had not seemed the least bit afraid. Oh, he might   
have been, but there had been no visible sign of it.   
  
Qui-Gon noticed immediately the change in Amidala,   
the shift from smiling young woman to somber queen,   
and puzzled over it. *A mere girl one moment, a Queen   
the next.* After a moment of consideration he amended   
his thoughts. *No, not a mere girl... not at all.   
Something about her makes her far more than that.*  
  
"I fear I have grave news, my lady," Duncan Palpatine   
said quietly.  
  
A glimmer of Amidala showed through the mask of the   
Queen, and was just as quickly gone. "Perhaps you   
should see the Queen about that."  
  
He smiled again, a smile that was dazzling and   
captivating- a smile which made him seem not even   
half his true age, and, with a gallantry that   
surprised Amidala, offered her his arm. "I'm  
afraid that I *must* see the Queen, my dear. Would   
you walk with me, Your Majesty?"  
  
In answer she took his arm, and together they moved   
along path that wound its way through the extensive   
palace gardens.  
  
"Firstly, I must tell you that I had feared for your   
safety when you returned here from Courscant,"   
Palpatine said. "Again."  
  
There had been brief stirrings of trouble during her   
time on Coruscant, news of minor incidents upon other   
worlds. But she, in what she supposed might have been   
termed naivety by some, had assumed that such   
troubles could never come to Naboo. Not again, at   
least. Palpatine had warned her otherwise, but she   
had not wanted to listen.  
  
"I know. You thought I was taking a foolish chance   
with my life."  
  
"You were." The senator's two words fell like stones   
tossed into a once-tranquil pool, sending shockwaves   
and ripples spinning out in their wake.  
  
"I- What did you say?"  
  
Palpatine looked at her directly, concern clear as   
crystal in the deep blue of his eyes. "You were, and   
are still, in grave danger." He paused. "And I cannot   
tell you what relief I feel, to see you well and   
unharmed."  
  
"What word reached you while I was away, Senator,   
that you worried so for my return?"  
  
"I have been told of threats made against you,   
threats which concern me greatly. There is evidence   
enough to indicate that these should be taken   
seriously."  
  
"I believe I've proven that I can take care of   
myself," Amidala replied with a smile. "Things here   
are quiet."  
  
Palpatine sighed. "It is but the calm before the   
storm. I, and many others, had greatly hoped that the   
worst of the troubles were behind us now, but-"  
  
"But they are not, are they?" she asked quietly.   
  
Sadly, the senator shook his head. "If even half of   
what I have been told is true, then no, my Queen,   
they are not."  
  
She nodded, pursing her lips, looking thoughtful.   
"Tell me of the threats, Senator."  
  
Palpatine winced, and when he spoke, it was with   
great hesitation. "The death of your handmaiden,   
Sabe..."  
  
The queen winced sharply, and for an instant the   
smooth mask of leadership cracked, providing   
Palpatine a brief glimpse of a deep and bitter grief,   
grief tinged with a sharp, burning guilt. His heart   
wept with sympathy for the girl, for he knew that   
look all too well, and had worn it himself more often   
than he cared to remember. She was too young, not for   
leadership itself, but for the burdens it would place   
upon her. Burdens such as that one. *We stole her   
childhood,* he thought sadly, *because we needed her,   
and there was no other to take her place. What we   
needed of you, you gave without second thought. But   
oh, my dear, my dearest Amidala, what of the cost?   
What of the cost to yourself?*  
  
Even for a Naboo queen, she had been chosen young.   
But of the candidates, she had been the best by far,   
and even he had seen that, watching from a distance,   
for he dared not get too close. In the end it was   
clear to all of them that she, and only she, would   
do. And so they'd made her Queen. She had been   
pleased with the results of the election, as any   
would be pleased, but when she found him wandering   
the palace gardens after she'd been given the news,   
she had turned to him, Duncan Palpatine, Senator of   
the Naboo, and whispered, "I almost wish that I had   
lost."  
  
Duncan had wanted to comfort her like the sad, lost   
child she seemed to be then, but already there were   
lines between them, between Amidala and the Naboo.   
She was no longer simply a precocious youth with a   
needle-sharp intelligence and a will of steel. She   
was his Queen. It changed nothing, and it changed   
everything.  
  
He knew he needed go no farther then; she knew. Her   
words only confirmed that.  
  
"Sabe...was killed because she played a part, and   
played it all too well." Amidala gazed up at the   
senator, the quiet wisdom in her eyes reminding him   
that she was older than she seemed, in her twenties   
now. "Because they thought she was me."  
  
"Yes. I- am deeply sorry, Your Majesty."  
  
"Go on," she said almost sharply. "Go on..."  
  
"Those who killed Sabe, also sought out the rest of   
the handmaidens. Once they realized that they had   
failed the first time... Somehow they knew that you   
had occasionally hidden among their number-" At her   
startled look he paused. "My dear, I knew you in the   
years before you were Queen. And you have not changed   
so very much that I did not recognize you."  
  
"But you said nothing."  
  
"No, I did not. I said nothing to you, nor to anyone   
else. I saw what you were doing and I understood it.   
I left you in peace there, as much as I could."  
  
"I... Thank you, Senator."  
  
"Your Highness, the handmaidens were sought out   
because of what their attackers knew." He paused, a   
frown of concentration crossing his face. "There was,   
I believe, one survivor."  
  
"Eirtae," Amidala replied. "I have spoken with her at   
length, as has Captain Panaka. She remembers nothing   
of her attackers, though she is haunted by the   
memories of seeing her friends fall."  
  
"Does she know that it was you who saved her, Your   
Highness?"  
  
Memory overtook her, the garden fading. Barely   
visible through the smoky air left in the wake of   
numerous blaster shots, were the still forms in the   
brilliant-colored dress of her handmaidens, in sharp   
relief against the courtyard's paving stone.  
  
"Your Highness, please," Captain Panaka spoke quietly   
from somewhere behind her. He reached out to take her   
arm, but she shoved him aside.  
  
"I must do this," she replied just as quietly,   
shifting her two-handed grip upon her blaster. "You   
trained me well, Captain."  
  
Amidala, on hands and knees, slipped through bushes   
and under the shadows of trees, inching her way   
towards the nearest of the still figures, who even as   
she watched drew a shallow, trembling breath.  
  
She moved quickly towards the figure, with pained   
glances at the others whom she could not save now.   
"Eirtae," she said softly, and was rewarded with a   
quick look of recognition before the handmaiden   
passed out in her arms. Amidala carried her to   
safety, and then she was running, the sound of her   
footsteps pounding upon the paving stones, screaming   
for her guards, for Panaka and Voyles, the medic...  
  
"Your Highness?"  
  
Amidala blinked. She opened her eyes, unaware she had   
closed them, to find Palpatine studying her with   
obvious concern. "She knows," the queen whispered.  
  
"Are you well, my queen?"  
  
"The Queen of the Naboo must be well, even if she is   
not," Amidala replied softly. "She must lead even   
when she is afraid, stand in the defense of her   
people even it would be easier to do the opposite."  
  
"That is quite true, Your Highness. But few Queens   
have taken such- direct action, at such great   
personal risk."  
  
"You disapprove, Senator?"  
  
"No. I fear for you. The Naboo can ill afford to   
loose you, Your Highness. You are beloved among them,   
more so now because you played such a great part in   
the defense of our world. But no Queen has ever   
fallen in battle. Had you become the first, our   
enemies would have considered it a great victory, no   
matter the outcome of the battle."  
  
"I know," Amidala said. "But I could not sit idle   
with Naboo in such danger. Nor could I leave my   
handmaidens, my friends, to their fate when there was   
the chance that I could save even one."  
  
"Of all Naboo's queens, my dear, I believe you to be   
the most brave. And it is not only the people who   
would so deeply grieve for you upon your death."  
  
"Would you weep for me, Senator? For your Queen?"  
  
"For the Naboo, I would weep for the death of a   
Queen. For myself, I would mourn the loss of a dear   
and beloved friend."  
  
Deeply moved by his words, by their raw honesty, it   
took her several long moments before she was able to   
speak. "You honor me, Senator."  
  
"On the contrary. It is I who am honored, my dear."  
  
She smiled softly, but beneath that smile, she felt   
her world turned upside-down. She had in the past   
sensed that he was not telling her the whole and   
entire truth, that there were things he had kept from   
her. And she had almost distrusted him for that, but   
now she thought she understood his evasions. In the   
past he had lied or told her falsely, only to protect   
her. *And only,* she realized now, *before I was   
Queen.* Lies could, after all, protect the girl and   
perhaps not do her that much harm. But to a queen the   
truth must be spoken, no matter that it might pain   
her to hear it.  
  
"Senator..."  
  
Palpatine smiled again, and shook his head. "I do   
apologize, my dear. It seems I forget myself, and one   
thing you certainly do not need is to be forced to   
listen to an old man's sentimental nonsense."  
  
"It is hardly that, my friend." Amidala paused, her   
thoughts returning suddenly to the here and now. "Yet   
however much I enjoy the pleasure of your company, I   
know that your time is precious, and that there is   
something more you would speak of to me."  
  
*She possesses such startling insight, for one so   
young,* the senator thought, and he chose his words   
with care. *So often I think that there are things   
she will not grasp, and yet she sees them   
immediately. Again I must remind myself that she is   
no child, that she is not so young as she seems. And   
that, of course, she is wise beyond her years. As was   
her mother.*  
  
"You know me well, Your Highness."  
  
*I know you, Senator, but there are pieces of you   
hidden from me, sides to you I have not seen. Yet we   
all have our secrets, and you certainly are not alone   
in that.* "Of course," the Queen said, favoring him   
with a genuinely warm yet still somehow regal smile.   
"We have long been friends, you and I, have we not?"  
  
"We have indeed, Your Highness. I regret, however,   
that it is a serious and urgent matter that brings me   
to you now. I know that you wished to be left alone   
today, and I would respect your wishes in this matter   
if I could." He hesitated, then continued on. "I have   
told you that your life is in danger. What I have not  
said is that yours is not the only one."  
  
"No, but it wouldn't be, would it?" Amidala asked.   
"To truly hurt me, an enemy would also have to hurt   
those I care for, those my duty, and my own heart,   
demand I protect. The people."  
  
*Oh, child... if only we were not who we were, I   
would weep with you at this news,* Palpatine thought.   
*But somehow, I think you know that.*  
  
"Yes, Your Majesty. The people."  
  
A sudden fear, nameless but terrible, crossed over   
her. Somehow Amidala managed to keep her voice steady   
as she replied. "Please, my friend. I must know, I   
must know everything that you know. Beginning with   
who you believe is behind this- or who will be."  
  
"The Sith, my queen. The Sith rise against us. I have   
learned that the Sith killed by the two Jedi was but   
the Apprentice. The Master lives still."  
  
The apprentice. They had faced only the apprentice.   
And that battle, as she had so clearly seen, had been   
a very near thing. She shuddered at the thought of   
what might have taken place had they faced the Master  
instead.  
  
But Palpatine was going on. "The Sith Master, whom my   
sources tell me calls himself Darth Sidious, is here,   
on Naboo."  
  
"Here?" she gasped, but quickly regained her   
composure.  
  
"Yes," he replied. "And, my Queen- it *was* the Sith   
who ordered the attack upon your handmaidens."  
  
"Are you certain?" Her voice was as he had never   
heard it before, cold and strong, like chilled steel.   
She had never reminded him so much of her mother.  
  
*Oh yes, my dear... my poor, dear child. Yes, I am   
certain. And I would give anything to change that.*   
Palpatine nodded gravely. "I am more certain than I   
could ever have hoped or wanted to be." The tone of   
his voice was terribly sad, as if he alone knew the  
secret of some deep tragedy which she could only   
guess at.  
  
Almost entirely unaware she was doing it, the young   
queen rested a hand upon the senator's shoulder, in a   
gesture of silent support. "Then you are certain, my   
friend- and I will not ask how it is that you know   
this thing." *How could I, seeing clearly how much it   
would pain you to explain in detail? You would, if I   
asked, but I will not unless I must.* "The Apprentice   
alone was nearly more than we were capable of   
standing against. Surely the Master is a matter for   
the Jedi Council. Have you contacted them?"  
  
"I have tried, Your Highness. But the Jedi are   
concerned with many other things- things they no   
doubt consider to be far more important than our   
trivial problems."  
  
Inwardly, Amidala sighed. *Damn* the Jedi Council,   
anyway. The fools were so busy with their own   
affairs, whatever those might be, that they failed to   
see anything beyond them. This same council, of   
course, had said only a few short years ago that   
better it might have been had Qui-Gon Jinn died. And   
perhaps, better too had the Trade Federation not   
failed in their efforts. And Amidala was not sure   
that she would have taken it had it been offered.  
  
"If this problem is a trivial one, Senator, I am   
loath to see its opposite."  
  
"As am I, Your Majesty."  
  
Amidala nodded. "We can expect no help from that   
quarter, then. Very well; so be it. We have done more   
with less." She gestured, and the senator and the   
queen began moving back towards where they had left   
the Jedi Master, with the queen speaking quietly  
into the Senator's ear. "Here is what we will do..."  
  
~ ~ ~  
  
They stood before her in the Queen's rooms, the small   
and somewhat unlikely band of allies who had over the   
course of the past few years become her closest and   
dearest friends. She had trusted each with her life   
upon numerous occasions, and would not hesitate to do   
so again. These were troubled times for the Republic,   
and Amidala had found that she could place her faith,   
her trust, in only a rare few- in these few. Once,   
there had been others, but every last one save these   
few was gone now, all of them destroyed and only a   
small number of those still living. She missed the   
others terribly- Sabe in particular- but was grateful   
for those with her still.  
  
First among them was Qui-Gon Jinn, Jedi Master in   
exile. Since the Battle of Naboo, he had been   
something of a permanent fixture in the Theed Palace.   
The Council had made it clear that they did not wish   
to see him again in their presence, and the maverick   
Jedi Master had made it just as clear that he had no   
real desire to return to them. In the years following   
the battle, he had become a trusted advisor, and   
often served as peacekeeper within the Queen's   
Council of Advisors.  
  
Beside Qui-Gon, watching over him as a son might his   
ailing father, was the Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi. He   
had been Qui-Gon's apprentice when she met him. Obi-  
Wan had been more outspoken then, quicker to speak up   
and to act without thinking. He'd been almost   
reckless then, but now possessed the same quiet sense   
of thoughtfulness and calm that his former Master   
had. Somewhat more tolerable to the Jedi Council than   
Qui-Gon, he came and went as he pleased, but he, too,   
spent the bulk of his time on Naboo. Amidala had   
quickly come to appreciate his youthful wisdom and   
energy both, and in truth the once-brash young Jedi   
was very dear to her, perhaps dearer than he knew.  
  
Young Anakin Skywalker stood, shifting slowly from   
one foot to the other, beside Obi-Wan. He had changed   
a great deal since Amidala had seen him last,   
appearing somewhat older now. But she was not as   
comfortable around this boy as she had been the child   
Qui-Gon had aided on the desert planet called   
Tatooine. He had not returned to Naboo in years, and   
in fact this was the first time Amidala had seen him   
since the days following the Battle of Naboo. And   
those years had not been kind to Anakin. Despite   
their promises to Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, the Jedi   
Council had insisted no one be allowed to train the   
boy. Amidala had expected Anakin's training to change   
him, but was unprepared for the fact that his *lack*   
of training would change him far more. He was brash,   
and more reckless than Obi-Wan had ever seemed. For   
reasons Amidala could neither entirely understand,   
nor discard out of hand, she no longer trusted the   
boy. While the Jedi were calm, tranquil, Anakin was   
something altogether different. She found that   
difference greatly troubling.  
  
Beside the door stood Captain Panaka, the queen's   
sworn protector. Even here amongst her allies, he   
took no chances with his ruler's safety. He would not   
let his guard down, determined not to fail her as he   
believed he had failed the handmaidens. Panaka was a   
career soldier born on a world of peace, and though   
he was a skilled fighter and knew it well, he fought   
always with a reluctance rather native to the Naboo.   
None of them had ever wanted to fight, but many, like   
Panaka, like Amidala, recognized the occasional   
necessity of it. Like as not, some things must be   
done.  
  
Nearest Panaka, where he could easily protect her,   
was Eirtae. Of all the handmaidens, she had been the   
one nearest to invisible. Eirtae was shy, painfully   
so, and had served Amidala from the shadows as often   
as not. Because of this, the Queen had not known her   
well, certainly not as well as any of the others,   
prior to their deaths. With Eirtae being the last of   
them, Amidala found herself turning to the other   
young woman as often as she once would have turned to   
Sabe. Eirtae still seemed very uncomfortable being in   
the thick of things. She was not likely to speak up   
much at this meeting, somewhat uncomfortable as she   
was in the presence of such august personages as the   
Senator and the two Jedi.  
  
At Amidala's shoulder was Senator Duncan Palpatine.   
Grave and somber in his robes of deepest blue, the   
look in his eyes was one that went beyond pain. It   
was clear to Amidala and the others that this was a   
great personal tragedy for him. A well-respected  
scholar of history and of Jedi lore, Palpatine had   
aided the Jedi Council in their search for the Sith.   
Or rather, he had tried to. But despite his wisdom,   
despite his knowledge of things that even the Council   
did not know, they refused to accept his aid,   
deciding, in their arrogance and pride, that they did   
not require the aid of one who was not sensitive.  
  
He knew the Sith as no one else outside of that   
mysterious sect, and yet the Council refused to so   
much as consider accepting his offer of help. Instead   
they had smiled, and patronized, and thanked him for   
his time...and then sent him away, back to the world   
of the bureaucrats, where he could do little to   
nothing of any real importance. The Senator was not a   
man accustomed to being tossed aside in this manner,   
particularly when he clearly had more than a working   
grasp of the subject at hand. But despite the claims   
of the Council, he had never sough to "presume" to   
tell the Jedi that he knew their history better than   
they.  
  
*Far from it,* Palpatine thought now. *I would   
'presume' to tell them they are fools, Masters of the   
Force or no. I would tell them, if they would only   
listen.*  
  
Nearest to Senator Palpatine was Amidala. Naboo's   
queen was dressed not in the fine garments of silk   
and golden threads suitable for the throne room, but   
in the battle dress of her handmaidens, simple   
clothing of tunic, pants, and long, skirted overcoat,   
made of a lightweight, tightly-woven plum-colored  
fabric designed to absorb much of the energy from a   
blaster bolt. Ingenuitive thought on behalf of the   
court's designers had crafted that fabric to look   
very much akin to velvet- deceptively weak-seeming   
fabric, and certainly fine enough for a queen. In  
place of the usual silk slippers she wore tall black   
boots, and if truth be told found them a great luxury   
which she had often envied the handmaidens for.  
  
Her hair was pulled back into a knot at the nape of   
her neck, and the expression upon her face was one of   
determination and courage. If any present sensed or   
recognized the very real fear beneath that, they kept   
such observations to themselves.  
  
Her first words gathered them to her, and by the time   
she spoke the last of them, there was no doubt that   
she had their full attention.  
  
"Senator Palpatine tells me we face a very grave   
threat- and that we cannot expect any aid from the   
Jedi Council, though both of us are agreed that, all   
things being equal, we should have that aid."  
  
"All things are never equal, Your Highness,"   
Palpatine said quietly from behind her.  
  
The queen nodded. "But does that mean that they   
should not be?" She shook her head. "No, the Senator   
is right. Sit down, all of you; I fear this may take   
some time." She waited while they seated themselves,   
not wanting to speak again before they had done so.  
  
"What threat?" asked Anakin.  
  
All eyes in the room turned to look upon him with   
near to identical expressions of surprise, as if they   
had all but forgotten his presence.  
  
"The Sith," Amidala said. "The one of their number   
who was killed in the Battle some years ago was but   
the Apprentice. The Master remains, and he is...   
here."  
  
"Here, on Naboo?" Obi-Wan asked.  
  
Amidala nodded. "Yes. So the Senator's sources tell   
him, and I have no reason to doubt him."  
  
"Nor do I," Qui-Gon stated calmly. "And I presume, of   
course, Senator, that your offers of aid to the Jedi   
Council were politely, if somewhat patronizingly,   
rejected?"  
  
"They were indeed," Palpatine told him. "I have long   
respected the Jedi for their wisdom, but-"  
  
"The Council members are fools!" Anakin exclaimed.   
"And we don't need them. We took the apprentice, we   
can-"  
  
"Anakin," Obi-Wan said. "If you'll recall, it took   
both Master Qui-Gon and myself to defeat the   
Apprentice- and we very nearly failed."  
  
"But we're more powerful now than we were then,   
aren't we?" the boy asked Obi-Wan. "You're a Knight   
now, and I'm- stronger. Amidala can fight, and the   
old man-" the boy gestured here to the Senator, who   
smiled thinly "-isn't a bad shot, from what I've   
seen." He paused to take a breath, then rushed on.   
"We can do it, we can-!"  
  
"I fear it is not so easy as that, child," Palpatine   
cut him off, speaking quietly and softly, but with   
the weight of accustomed authority behind his words,   
Anakin made no attempt to interrupt him again. "The   
Sith Master, Darth Sidious, is very powerful- perhaps   
more powerful than the bulk of your Council put   
together. It is their place to deal with this threat,   
and they may be the only ones truly capable of it."  
  
"But they've left us to our fate," Eirtae   
interjected, hesitantly. She sounded angry, and   
Amidala could hardly blame her. Beneath her mask of   
royal calm, she was rather angry as well. "They heard   
what the Senator told them, but they didn't really   
listen. I don't understand that."  
  
"Nor do I," Palpatine replied. "I wonder if anyone   
truly understands their motivations these days."  
  
"I think," Obi-Wan spoke up, "that the Council is so   
far removed from the galaxy now that they don't see   
the things that happen to it in the same light that   
we do. It's sometimes very easy to turn a blind eye   
to the things that don't shatter the stability of   
your own little worlds. And it's easier to ignore   
things that you can pretend have no relevance for   
you."  
  
"Like the way everybody ignores the slavery on   
Tatooine," Anakin said sullenly. "It's not their   
problem, and it's so far away..."  
  
"Exactly," Obi-Wan said. "I can't tell you that it is   
fair or right- it's not, but it is the way of things   
these days."  
  
Eirtae nodded. "But in this case..." She paused, as   
if searching for the right words. "If you will   
forgive me this, gentlemen-" here she nodded   
respectfully to the Jedi "-they are fools not to  
care about our plight. They themselves are far more   
of a threat to this Sith Master than we are- and even   
if they don't care to stop him, *he* won't know that-   
or even believe it if he does learn of it."  
  
Palpatine nodded. "Just so, child. If we fail to   
destroy the Sith, he will eventually go on to   
challenge the Council. Will they care, I wonder, when   
the troubles of the galaxy fall upon their own   
doorstep?"  
  
"Not unless they happen to trip over them," Obi-Wan   
said under his breath. The others might have expected   
Qui-Gon to make some comment on this blatantly   
disrespectful remark, and the fact that he did not   
spoke volumes. Perhaps none of the others truly took   
notice of this, but the Jedi Master felt Palpatine's   
gaze fall across him and linger there a moment, and   
knew that the Senator, at least, had grasped the   
significance of what hadn't been said.  
  
"So," Amidala said. "We can expect no help from the   
Council. We're in agreement that they are fools not   
to send that aid, but that's beside the point. We   
will have no help from them, nor, I suspect, from   
many others, if any."  
  
"Perhaps the Gungans-" Panaka began, but Amidala   
shook her head.  
  
"The Gungans would make an amusing distraction for   
the Sith, and I think that he would enjoy their   
destruction. He would also, I'm sure, make very short   
work of them."  
  
"All too easily, Your Highness," Palpatine told her.  
  
Amidala nodded. "The Gungans have done enough- more   
than enough. Let them sit this one out."  
  
"They'd at least distract him," Anakin said. "Maybe   
we could-"  
  
"I do not want them involved in this." She turned to   
Obi-Wan. "Not a word of this to Jar Jar, please. They   
will want to help, and they will try, but... they   
would be slaughtered."  
  
The young Jedi nodded. "You're right, of course.   
We'll deal with it, somehow."  
  
Palpatine nodded, slowly. "At the very least, we will   
try."  
  
Amidala turned to face him, a question unspoken in   
the depth of her eyes. "Senator- are you saying that   
we may fail?"  
  
"Surely that does not surprise you, my lady? We will   
try, and yet-"  
  
"Senator," Obi-Wan spoke up almost hesitantly.   
"Master Yoda has a saying. 'Do, or do not. There is   
no try.'"  
  
Palpatine smiled ruefully. "Yes, I know."  
  
"You know?" the young man asked.  
  
"Yes. You are not the first Jedi to repeat Yoda's   
words of wisdom to me, young one."  
  
Obi-Wan seemed to bow in his chair. "Ah, I see."  
  
"And I tell you that we will do our best, but I can   
promise you little else," the Senator continued.  
  
"But we *can* do it," Anakin insisted feverently.   
"The Sith is just one person, and there are six of   
us. We can take him without a lot of trouble."  
  
"Overconfidence is a great weakness, young   
Skywalker," Palpatine told him. "One I'm sure our   
enemy has many ways to exploit."  
  
Amidala, slightly annoyed with the boy, held her   
irritation in check as best she could when she spoke   
to him. "At the moment, Anakin, we are trying to   
figure out exactly what it is we are dealing with   
here, and the best way to fight him, among other  
things. Before we can truly know how difficult or   
easy it will be to best him, we must study our own   
resources and learn something of his. Do you   
understand?"  
  
"Yes, but-"  
  
"But nothing. If you wish to help us, you may stay,   
but if all you plan to do is interrupt with childish   
fancies, I'm going to ask you to leave. We haven't   
time for games, Anakin."  
  
The boy looked to the Jedi as if seeking support, but   
if that was what he was looking for, he didn't find   
it. Both Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon studied him silently,   
their faces expressionless. Anakin turned away from   
them, his glance sweeping across a stoic Panaka,   
silent Eirtae, and a motionless Senator Palpatine.   
None of them spoke or moved an inch, but their lack   
of expressions screamed as loudly as anything could   
their agreement with Amidala in this matter.  
  
Anakin nodded. "Yes, Your Highness." He settled back   
in his seat quietly, eyes meekly downcast, gazing at   
his folded hands.  
  
Palpatine raised an eyebrow at Amidala, who shook her   
head, some unspoken communication passing between the   
two. Amidala returned her attentions to the rest of   
the gathering, her eyes seeking out and finding   
Panaka.  
  
"Captain," she said. "Send word to the kitchens for   
food and drink for all of us to be brought here. We   
have a great deal of work to do, and we will not be   
able to pause to eat."  
  
Panaka nodded. "Yes, Your Highness."  
  
"Then, fetch the maps from the war room. I believe   
our first priority should be to determine where on   
Naboo the Sith Master is likely to be. We have the   
advantage of knowing our terrain, and by the time we   
face him I mean for us to know every inch of it,  
every tree and blade of grass."  
  
Before the Trade Federation's invasion, the Theed   
Palace had not had a war room. They had not had need   
of one for generations. It was a thing they tried not   
to dwell on any more than they had to. What was, was.  
  
Panaka bowed, and departed the room. Amidala turned   
then to Palpatine. "Senator, if you would be so kind   
as to fetch the books from your study- the histories   
particularly, and your own notes..."  
  
The Senator nodded. "I think I see what you are   
after, Your Highness. Known thine enemy as you know   
your terrain." He stood and moved towards the door.  
  
She turned her attentions to Eirtae. "The new maid   
you hired..."  
  
"Yes, Your Highness?"  
  
"She bears enough of a resemblance to me that she   
should do very well for what I have in mind. Find   
her, put her in handmaidens' garb- *not* battle   
dress, mind -and spirit her off to the throne room.   
Indicate to the servants that the Queen has just   
immerged from a very dull and unproductive council   
session; tell her to appear pensive, and give her   
something to read."  
  
"A decoy, Your Highness?"  
  
"Precisely. I would not put it past the Sith to have   
spies in the Palace, in which case I do not mean for   
him to know that I am meeting with the true council   
now. In fact- when you escort her to the throne room,   
you might make a point of mentioning that the Jedi   
had departed the planet, and the Senator was nowhere   
to be found..."  
  
Eirtae nodded. "Consider it done, Your Highness."   
Picking up the cane that aided her these days in   
walking, she stepped towards the door. Midway there,   
she paused. "Perhaps young Anakin could accompany me?   
He could probably use the break before the *real*  
meeting starts." She smiled sympathetically at the   
boy, who shyly smiled back.  
  
Amidala nodded. "A very good idea, Eirtae. Go on,   
both of you."  
  
When the door closed for the last time behind Eirtae   
and Anakin, the young queen breathed a sigh of relief   
and stood from her chair, stretching her arms above   
her head. The two Jedi exchanged knowing looks, and   
the queen turned an amused gaze upon them.  
  
"You certainly managed to get rid of them all quickly   
enough," Obi-Wan said.  
  
"Nonsense. We truly will need the things I sent them   
for."  
  
"The decoy was a wise idea," Qui-Gon told her, "but   
I've no doubt you would have also found a suitable   
errand to send Anakin off on as well, had he not gone   
with your handmaiden."  
  
Obi-Wan nodded in agreement. "So. What's on your   
mind, Your Highness, that you can't say in front of   
them?"  
  
"It's what I don't feel I should say in front of   
Anakin, actually... and not anywhere within his   
hearing, either."  
  
At that, both Jedi sobered. "Go on," Obi-Wan said.  
  
"He has- changed. And not, I think, entirely for the   
better. I know very little of the Force, but..." She   
shook her head. "The Senator has an understanding of   
it that I lack. He has never offered me an   
explanation, nor have I asked for one, but he has  
never been wrong in anything he has said to me."  
  
"And he said something to you about Anakin." Qui-Gon   
made it a statement rather than a question, and   
Amidala's nod confirmed it.  
  
"Yes. He has said, on numerous occasions, that the   
boy is dangerous. That with one so young, and so   
powerful, there is the potential for him to fall   
easily to the darkness."  
  
Both Jedi nodded. "The Senator is correct in that,"   
Qui-Gon told her. "Which is part of the reason I   
wished to train him. The training of those such as   
him must be handled very carefully, least the very   
thing you and the Senator fear come to pass. And if   
not myself, someone should be seeing t that. But the   
Council decreed none would be allowed to see to   
Anakin's training, and..."  
  
"I wonder," Amidala said. "I do not like it, but I   
wonder...if they are so very unconcerned about the   
danger of a Sith Master possibly coming to stand on   
their very doorstep, would they notice if the boy   
they refused to train began to slip towards the   
dark?"  
  
Their expressions were more than answer enough.  
  
~ ~ ~  
  
Anakin slipped away from the handmaiden with very   
little effort. Most of her attention was focused upon   
the maid standing before her, and the instructions   
she was giving. And since no one had specifically   
told Eirtae to keep an eye upon him, he doubted that  
she would. By the time she thought enough to miss   
him, he would be long gone.  
  
Anakin stifled a laugh as he dashed down a corridor.   
boots skidding across marble and tile. Eirtae didn't   
know her job nearly as well as Sabe had known hers.   
Sabe had been able to read the Queen's wishes as much   
in what she was told as in what she wasn't. She'd   
have known that Amidala was suspicious of him- and   
she was, Anakin could sense that clearly. But he   
wouldn't need to worry about the handmaiden until the   
Queen had the time to speak to her alone.   
  
He made his way quickly along the palace halls, his   
destination a side entrance used primarily by the   
servants- none of whom thought twice about the humbly   
dressed boy in their midst. He walked with a   
purposeful stride that proclaimed he had somewhere to   
be and something to do, and none of them thought to   
question him as he made for the door.   
  
Anakin was only a few steps past that door when the   
cloaked figure came upon him. The man stood at the   
edge of a lengthening shadow, where an instant ago   
there had been nothing but fading light.   
  
At length, the figure spoke.  
  
"Young Skywalker."  
  
The boy bowed. "Master."  
  
"Has your absence been noticed?" the cloaked man   
asked.  
  
"Not yet. The Queen's sent everyone on errands, and I   
slipped away from the handmaiden when she wasn't   
looking..."  
  
The other nodded. "Good, good. This way, and quickly,   
before they do notice you've gone." Without another   
word he spun and began to move quickly away. Anakin   
followed without hesitation, as the dark-clad figure   
slipped from shadow to shadow, across the courtyard   
and out into the cobbled street beyond it.  
  
"They know you're here," Anakin said as he caught up   
with the man.  
  
From beneath the hood, he smiled thinly. "Do they,   
now. And do they fear yet?"  
  
"They're planning how to defeat you, Master. The   
queen sent the old man, the Senator, for some of his   
books-"  
  
The cloaked man laughed. "The Senator will not find   
his answers in books, child. Come along, now."  
  
"I don't know," the boy said doubtfully as he trailed   
after him. "He seems to know a lot, more than the   
Jedi in some ways. And they trust what he tells   
them."  
  
"He does not know enough to be a true threat, not   
yet. And he will never learn anything more, trust in   
that." The Sith paused, a thoughtful expression   
crossing his face. "I presume the Senator is staying   
in the Palace, young one?"  
  
"Yes, Master."  
  
"Then here is what you will do. You will find his   
rooms for me- follow him when he leaves the meeting,   
if you can do so without being seen. Make certain you   
can find your way from those rooms to that door-" he   
gestured to the place where Anakin had exited the   
Palace "-and back again. For tonight you will take me   
there."  
  
"You should deal with the Jedi first, Master," Anakin   
said.  
  
But the Sith shook his head. "No. The Jedi would seem   
to be the more dangerous, true, but they are not. The   
Senator knows... the Senator knows far too much, my   
young apprentice, and I cannot risk that he will   
share what he knows with the Queen and her allies."  
  
"So knowledge can make someone as dangerous as   
power?"  
  
The Sith smiled. "Just so, my boy. Just so."  
  
Anakin nodded. "Very well, Master." He hesitated,   
then went on. "I'd better get back now, before they   
wonder where I've gone."  
  
His Master waved a negligent hand. "Go, then. But- do   
not fail me."  
  
"I won't, Master," the boy promised. He bowed again,   
then turned and ran for the stairs and the door   
beyond them.  
  
~ ~ ~  
  
"-and I think in terms of a plan, that is the best we   
are going to come up with," Amidala was saying.   
"There is much we don't know, too much to plan   
anything more tonight."  
  
Around the table there were nods of agreement; the   
others were as weary and tired as the Queen,   
physically and mentally exhausted and longing to seek   
their beds.  
  
"Then if there's nothing else, I will bid you all   
goodnight. Sleep well, my friends. We have much to do   
on the morrow."  
  
They rose and slowly filed out, each bidding a polite   
if slightly tired-sounding goodnight to Amidala. It   
wasn't until she began to gather her own things that   
she realized she was not, in fact, alone in the room.  
  
"Amidala?"  
  
She looked up then, giving Palpatine a tired smile.   
"Yes, Senator?"  
  
"My dear, there is- something I feel I must tell you.   
I thought once that it might be better if you never   
knew, but seeing what we now face, this is something   
which I think you need to know."  
  
She set her things aside and carefully met his gaze.   
"Yes? What is it?"  
  
Palpatine sighed, but forced himself not to turn away   
from her. The least he could do was meet her gaze   
when he told her the truth. What he had told her was   
true; she did need to know. Not only that, but she   
deserved to know.  
  
"The Sith Master, Darth Sidious..." He winced, as if   
the very words caused him physical pain. Amidala felt   
a strong desire to go and comfort him, but somehow   
she knew that would be the wrong thing to do. Better   
just to stand still and wait, to listen. "The Sith   
Lord is my brother, Lady. My twin."  
  
It was done. He closed his eyes, unable to bear the   
sight of the compassion, the pity, in her expression.   
In a moment she would get past that, what he had said   
would hit home, and she would never look at him the   
same way again. But to his amazement, instead of the   
retreating footsteps and the sound of a slamming door   
he'd been expecting, he heard her footsteps come   
*nearer*, and then felt velvet softness enfold him as   
she embraced him.  
  
"So that's it," she said softly. "That is how you   
understand this man so well, how you know so very   
much..."  
  
"Yes. And I suppose now that you know, you will wish   
someone else to represent Naboo in the Senate-"  
  
"Don't be *ridiculous*." She drew back only enough to   
look him in the eye, as if daring him to doubt the   
honesty of her words. "I would trust no other in your   
place, least of all now. And as you well know, times   
such as these are not the times to be making such   
great changes." She shook her head, reaching out to   
gather his books along with her own. "Thank you for   
trusting me with this."  
  
Palpatine nodded. "I felt you had a right to know-   
and thought that perhaps the knowledge might be of   
some use to you. Let me get those, please," he added,   
reaching for the books.  
  
Amidala shook her head. "I've got them; don't trouble   
yourself."  
  
"Your Highness-"  
  
"And don't argue, either. I'll walk you back."  
  
~ ~ ~  
  
Anakin crouched in the shadow of a potted plant off   
to one side of the corridor, watching as the Senator   
and the Queen exited the Queen's rooms. He had   
expected them to part here and go their separate   
ways, but they did not. Arm-in-arm, Palpatine and  
Amidala continued along the thickly-carpeted hall,   
the Queen carrying the Senator's books along with her   
own. By the low murmur of their voices, Anakin knew   
that they were speaking to one another, but he was   
not close enough to overhear, and dared not follow at   
a lesser distance. And their pace was slow enough-  
he assumed because the Senator was as close to   
exhausted as he looked -that it was not difficult to   
follow them.  
  
As they made their way around a curve in the hall   
that would have taken them from his sight, Anakin   
followed, creeping from shadow to shadow, dodging out   
of the way of servants and others. Even if he were   
sighted, they would not think his presence unusual.   
If stopped or questioned, he had ready a lie that   
would- probably -pass muster. By the time they knew   
it for fiction, it would be too late.  
  
With a resigned sigh, he realized that Amidala   
intended to walk the Senator all the way back to his   
rooms. If the Queen was with Palpatine when his   
Master came to dispatch the old man... Anakin shook   
his head. If she got in the way, if she tried to   
interfere, the Master would deal with it. Anakin was   
fairly sure he know *how* the Master would deal with   
it, but it was no concern of his.  
  
And perhaps it would be for the best. She noticed far   
more than the Jedi Council, and as he had learned   
that day, sometimes what a person knew could prove   
very dangerous. He truly believed what he'd said to   
Amidala and the others earlier that day- that the   
Council members *were* fools. They were fools, as was   
Naboo's Queen- though she suspected, he thought, and   
they probably never would. The great Council would   
find out just how foolishly arrogant they'd been one   
day, on the day that Anakin's Master came to see   
them. He hoped very much to be granted the honor to   
witness that.  
  
Perhaps if he proved very, very useful in aiding his   
Master's business on Naboo, he'd be allowed to help   
destroy the Council...  
  
~ ~ ~  
  
Darth Sidious approached his brother's rooms in the   
Theed Palace from another direction. After a bit of   
thought, he had decided that he did not trust his   
would-be apprentice with such a golden opportunity to   
make some mistake, intentionally or through   
carelessness, that might cost him this chance to be   
rid of his interfering twin. He did mean to test   
Skywalker's competence, as well as his loyalty, but   
not in such a way that his failure would cost the   
Sith Master something this important. No, the boy's   
test would be something else, something that did not   
require Sidious' personal attentions... something   
less critical, that could survive being inexpertly   
done.  
  
Aside from which, he knew very well that Skywalker   
wanted to kill the Senator himself, perhaps to prove   
his worth to Sidious. He was pleased to see the   
extent of the boy's ambition, but this was neither   
the time nor the place for him to be given free rein  
with it. And the pleasure of killing Duncan Palpatine   
was one Sidious reserved for himself.  
  
He, far more than the boy, was entitled to that.   
Sidious had earned that right, to take his brother's   
life. Years of torment, of listening to all those   
around him sing the praises of his brother, the   
brilliant scholar-Jedi Duncan, who could do no wrong.   
Duncan, who had everything his twin had ever wanted   
in the palm of his hand, and never seemed to   
appreciate it.  
  
Duncan was brilliant, handsome, and independently   
wealthy. A self-made man and an idealist, who claimed   
his only true wish was to work for the betterment of   
the lives of those whose worlds he represented. All   
his life women had flocked to him in droves, as had   
men. Those who did not seek his favors or his bed   
trailed at his coattails, as if hoping some bit of   
his charm might chance to rub off on them. Lost amid   
the shadows cast by the hangers-on, and by his   
brother's own bright lights, was Sidious, born   
Stilvin Palpatine. The mostly redundant several-  
minutes-younger twin, who from the time Duncan had   
demonstrated Jedi potential and Stilvin had not, had   
been simply taking up space. His family no longer   
needed him- they had Duncan, who was going to make   
them all proud. Even his friends shifted their   
allegiance almost in the blink of an eye, and it   
seemed to those on the outside looking in that they   
had been Duncan's friends since birth. Of course,   
there did exist those fools who could not tell the   
twins apart, but still, it was one of a million ways   
Sidious felt he had been slighted because of his   
brother.  
  
In the face of all of it Duncan pretended humbleness,   
humility. He played the reclusive scholar suddenly   
tossed into the limelight because he had demonstrated   
a rare ability, waving away would-be confidants and   
lovers with a negligent hand, saying over and over   
that he only wished to be left in peace, that he   
might return to his studies.  
  
Stilvin was still uncertain when exactly he had begun   
to hate his brother, but he had always been jealous   
of him. In childhood the brothers had been very   
close, and even as they grew to adulthood, Duncan   
adored his brother. But Stilvin saw the rift forming   
between them, and made no move to stop it. He had   
been cheated, clear and simple, and it angered him to   
see his own brother claiming all the glory. His   
hatred, once begun, had not taken long to develop   
into a deep and complex mix of hate and obsession,   
dark-shaded feelings which awakened his own   
previously latent abilities.  
  
And then his own teachers came to him- not Duncan's   
noble Jedi, but a strange and secretive society   
seeming to belong to an entirely different world.   
They had tested him in a million strange ways,   
throwing him into situations he never expected to  
encounter, and studying his reactions. Several moons   
of this, and one of them came to him with answers he   
had long sought, and an offer. That man had revealed   
himself to be of the Sith, and in time became   
Stilvin's master.  
  
It had only been a few years ago, shortly after that   
disastrous business on Naboo begun, that Stilvin was   
finally strong enough to kill his Master, thus   
assuming his title. But it was a bittersweet victory,   
for he had lost his own newly-chosen Apprentice after   
barely having begun his training. And Maul had been   
exceptional, the kind of Apprentice Stilvin, now   
known only as Darth Sidious, had himself once been,   
the exact type that Masters sought long and hard to   
find.  
  
And Duncan's fool Jedi had killed him. Rage filled   
the Sith Master's thoughts as he stalked along the   
corridor seeking his brother; rage directed not at   
the Jedi who'd killed the Apprentice, but at that   
worthy himself, at that boy who'd shown such great   
promise- and then had managed to get himself killed   
by a mere Padawan, a severely injured Jedi Master,   
and- worst of all, this last- a *girl*, a child with   
a toy crown and a pistol. Never had the Sith been so   
humiliated.  
  
But they would pay for it. Oh, yes, they would pay   
dearly, and very, very soon.  
  
The girl- that child these fools of Naboo called   
Queen -was Duncan's protégé, and to the brother who   
had once known him so well, it was clear as daylight   
on Tatooine how very much Duncan cared for her.   
Sidious meant to make use of that, if the opportunity   
presented itself. To torment his brother before he  
killed him, to repay him for what Sidious himself had   
suffered- oh, that would be sweet revenge indeed.  
  
Silent and wraithlike, Sidious crept along the hall,   
weaving his way between courtiers and guards,   
attracting the notice of neither. Just ahead of him   
were the double doors leading to the Senator's suite.   
Without hesitation he drew one of the doors open just   
enough that he could pass through it. Easing the door   
closed behind him, Sidious sought a place to lie in   
wait within the many shadows of the darkened room.  
  
He'd barely settled into his chosen shadow when the   
sound of footsteps drifted towards him from beyond   
the door. After a moment he could also pick out   
voices, speaking quietly. Try as he might, Sidious   
could not make out what either of the two might be   
saying. But as they drew closer, he was able to   
identify the first voice, and then the second.  
  
*Soon, then,* Sidious thought, as the footsteps came   
still closer, and one of the doors swung inward.   
*Very soon.*  
  
Two shadows stepped into the room, their shapes   
distinctive. One reached out to key the lights, and   
in the last instant of shadow within the room,   
Sidious smiled.  
  
The first shadow was clearly his brother. And the   
other... the other was the girl.  
  
~ ~ ~  
  
Amidala extracted her arm from Palpatine's and guided   
him to a chair, kicking the door closed behind them   
as she did so. Having already keyed the lights, she   
tossed the books with a quick but careful flick of   
her wrist to land upon a small table near the  
Senator's chair.  
  
"We'll meet again in the morning, all of us," she   
said. "Anything else that needs consideration or   
planning, we'll deal with then. Meantime, I need you   
well-rested, Duncan."  
  
He smiled softly. "Is that a royal decree?"  
  
"It can be." She paused, then stepped forward   
impulsively, enfolding him in a brief but tight   
embrace. "Thank you- for all you've done today. For   
your honesty and your loyalty..."  
  
"I give you no less than your due, my dear." *And   
thank you, my Queen, for your kindness, for your   
understanding, for your faith. Thank you for being   
all that you are.*  
  
Before she could even begin to contemplate an answer,   
a figure, cloaked in shadow, rose up from the room's   
darkest corner with a whisper of cloth, and the snap-  
hiss of a lightsaber's igniting.  
  
From his place in the chair, Duncan Palpatine watched   
the scene unfold with a sick sense of surreality. The   
cloaked figure moving towards them, the 'saber in its   
hand- and he did not even have to look, with senses   
physical or otherwise, to know that figure's   
identity. But even as he thought himself frozen with   
shock, reflexes reacted for him. His arms tightened   
around Amidala a heartbeat before he propelled her,   
with greater strength then most would believe he   
possessed, away from him, pushing her back and to the   
right, towards the door.  
  
*Run,* Duncan silently urged her, his eyes never once   
straying from his brother now, for he knew that if he   
looked away even for an instant, in that instant   
Stilvin would be upon him, and he would die. He, and   
Amidala Naberrie with him. *Run, child!* But he knew   
that she would not. The battles they had fought in   
recent years had taught Naboo's queen something of   
courage, and so Amidala would not run, although what   
she thought of as courage could perhaps have been   
foolishness, as well.  
  
She hit the thick carpet on her shoulder and rolled,   
the room spinning over and around her until she came   
to rest, her head slamming against the door with a   
shock of pain. Amidala lay there a moment, dazed,   
watching as Duncan stood quickly and tossed aside his   
outer robe. He moved now with the instinctive grace   
of a much younger man, and though he was unarmed, she   
knew from his stance that he was nonetheless a very   
dangerous fighter.  
  
"I needn't waste time telling you why I've come," the   
cloaked figure spoke up at last, and Amidala bit her   
lip to hold back a gasp of shock. She might have   
suspected, of course, given the Senator's recent   
revelation, but the voice marked it as a certainty.   
It was familiar and yet not, harsh, twisted, and  
cruel. There was none of Duncan's kindness in those   
tones, however similar they might be.  
  
"No, of course not," Duncan said, as calmly as if he   
were ordering a cup of tea. "I've been expecting you   
for years."  
  
"And have you no warm welcome for your brother?" the   
Sith asked.  
  
"When my brother has come to kill me?" The senator   
shook his head. "No. I'm afraid you are mistaken. I   
have no brother."  
  
Her heart pounding, trying to keep as still as   
possible, Amidala reached for her pistol...and knew   
with a sudden sinking certainty that she did not have   
it. She could see it clearly in her mind's eye; the   
silver glint of that weapon atop the dressing table   
in her chambers. So very far away, and so absolutely   
out of reach...  
  
"And in time, nor shall I have a brother." The Sith   
Master lunged, his 'saber arm swinging in a great   
arc, the force behind it enough to sever limbs from   
body. Duncan dodged to the side and hit the carpet to   
avoid the strike, snatching the table nearest the   
chair a mere scattering of seconds later. He hurled   
the table, books and all, towards the Sith...who   
simply laughed and shook his head, deflected the   
books with one arm and sliced cleanly through the   
table itself.  
  
*Damn,* Duncan thought, keeping one eye on the Sith   
and searching about with the other, seeking anything   
else that might be used as a weapon...or some sign of   
Amidala. *It seems there are drawbacks to the life of   
a scholar, after all. And unforeseen complications.   
This lack of weaponry, for example, is proving quite   
a problem...*  
  
Even as he watched, the Sith moved quickly forward,   
in what Duncan assumed to be another attack upon him.   
But Sidious overshot him by several feet, and it was   
only as the Sith neared his goal that Duncan realized   
his fatal error. He had a tendency to forget that for   
the Sith it was often the most complex and twisted   
ways of doing things that best served their ends- and  
that enhanced the dark-tinged emotions that they fed   
upon for power.  
  
But by the time he'd realized the Sith's true goal,   
and started to react, it was far too late. Sidious   
knelt beside Amidala, his 'saber hovering over her.   
Duncan felt icy blades of shock and pain stabbing his   
every sense, twisting in his heart with an exquisite,   
terrible agony.  
  
"Damn you," he whispered in a voice pained and   
broken. Anger and despair started to overwhelm him...   
and just as quickly it was fading, and then gone, to   
be replaced by a crystal clarity like flowing water,   
and a calm strength of standing stone. Something  
changed in his eyes, and the Sith may have winced,   
ever so slightly.  
  
"I sense in you great anger, my brother..." The Sith   
faltered suddenly, as that anger gave way to a calm   
and thoughtful manner that spoke of a great and   
rather unexpected change. Duncan should have been   
both furious and terrified by this point in time,   
pleading for the girl's life and striking out at   
Sidious, but he simply *stood there*, infuriatingly   
thoughtful, silent, calm... *Jedi,* Sidious thought   
with scorn. *All this, and he is still one of them at   
heart.*  
  
"I should very much like to see you beg for her   
life," Sidious said conversationally.  
  
Amidala blinked then as if just having returned to   
the land of the living. She ignored Sidious in a way   
that was regal and imperious, as if simply by   
refusing to acknowledge his presence, he ceased to   
exist. The young queen looked to Duncan, an ageless   
wisdom in her eyes. "Say *nothing*. And do nothing."  
  
He made no move to speak a reply, but she read his   
answer in his eyes.  
  
Amidala was uncertain what action she might have   
expected him to take, but she could not have been   
more surprised by what he *did* do. Duncan Palpatine   
extended an arm and held out his hand- and his   
brother's lightsaber slid neatly from the Sith Lord's   
grasp, evading his efforts to retrieve it, and   
dropped neatly into Duncan's hand.  
  
The senator held the 'saber as if he had been born   
with it, wielded it as if it were crafted for his   
hand alone. Step by step he advanced upon his   
brother, forcing him back at 'saber point until he   
stood between the Sith and the Queen.   
  
The Sith Lord smiled as he stepped back, hands   
raised- but in an instant there was a second   
lightsaber in his hand. Sidious retraced his steps   
towards his brother, thrusting forward with the saber   
again.  
  
Duncan seemed to sigh as he parried the Sith Lord's   
strike. "I see you still carry a spare."  
  
"You should have remembered that, brother," Sidious   
replied, feinting left, then striking right. "I'm   
disappointed."  
  
"Are you." Duncan spun to block his brother's attack,   
doing his best to ignore the sudden sharp stab of   
pain that told him he'd twisted his ankle. "And *I*   
am disappointed in you, my brother. I never wanted   
this, Stil-"  
  
"Of course not," the Sith snapped, delivering a   
brutal snap-kick aimed at his brother's knee. "I know   
very well what you wanted, *brother*. You wanted   
everything, and you got it, didn't you? The fame, the   
power, the recognition. Which of us is stronger now,   
I wonder?"  
  
"Time will tell," was Duncan's reply as he let   
Sidious' kick send him to the floor. As he fell, he   
caught his brother's foot, dragging the Sith down   
with him. They struck the carpet together, the impact   
jolting the 'saber from the Sith Lord's hand. A   
gesture from Duncan, and it rolled harmlessly away.  
  
"Highness," he snapped out, no time for kindness now,   
as he held the Sith down with one arm, his other hand   
holding the 'saber at his brother's throat.  
  
Amidala sprang for the 'saber as it rolled to a stop   
at her feet, snatched it up and ignited one end. She   
held it cautiously, well aware of the damage it could   
cause.  
  
"Easy, child," the Senator said softly. "It's very   
like one of your fencing foils. Instinct and your   
training will guide you, if you'll trust them. Here,   
now, to me."  
  
Amidala had taken barely a step towards the senator   
when the door flew open behind her and Anakin stepped   
through it, blaster in hand. "Drop the lightsaber,   
Highness."   
  
The Queen met Duncan's eyes; he nodded fractionally,   
and she clicked off the blade and dropped the 'saber   
handle to the floor.  
  
"Let him up, or the Queen dies," Anakin said, clearly   
speaking to Palpatine. Amidala squared her shoulders   
and stood tall and silent, but as she gazed upon the   
senator, her lips moved. "Kill him," she whispered,   
so faintly that Duncan Palpatine had to read her lips   
to understand what she had said.  
  
He gazed down upon the hood that shaded his brother's   
face- his own face, cruelly twisted, the hand that   
held the 'saber moving the slightest bit closer- and   
he shook his head. "Forgive me, Highness, but I   
cannot." The 'saber fell to the floor, and Duncan   
stood, hands raised.  
  
~ ~ ~  
  
Eirtae paused with her hand raised to knock upon the   
Jedi Master's door, wondering if she ought to trouble   
him or not. They had only recently retired for the   
night, and she knew that tomorrow was likely to be a   
very long day for all of them. But she couldn't shake   
the sense that something had gone wrong.  
  
The Queen's handmaiden hadn't seen her since she   
departed to walk Senator Palpatine back to his rooms.   
Under normal circumstances Eirtae would not have   
worried if Amidala was a little late getting back-   
she and the Senator had a habit of becoming very   
involved in their conversations, and loosing track of   
time. But in light of recent events, the handmaiden   
thought they were better safe than sorry.  
  
She knocked softly upon the Jedi Master's door.   
"Master Qui-Gon?"  
  
The door swung inward several inches. "Yes? Who's   
there?"  
  
"Eirtae, sir. The Queen's handmaiden." She paused,   
considering her next words. "I'm afraid something's   
happened to her..."  
  
The door opened the rest of the way, and Qui-Gon Jinn   
stepped out into the hall, pulling a dark brown cloak   
over his nightclothes. "She and the Senator departed   
our council together, did they not?"  
  
"They did. She's probably gone to walk him back to   
his rooms, and it's possible they just haven't   
noticed how late it's getting..." The handmaiden   
trailed off.  
  
"Somehow, I think not." The Jedi Master drew a   
lightsaber from within the folds of his cloak. He did   
not ignite it, but held it at the ready. "I'll fetch   
Obi-Wan. If you'd be so kind as to call Captain   
Panaka?"  
  
Eirtae was already reaching to key the comlink at her   
wrist when Qui-Gon turned and started off down the   
corridor.  
  
~ ~ ~  
  
Obi-Wan stumbled towards his door in response to the   
insistent pounding. "Do you have any *idea* what   
time-?" he started, opening the door. One look at   
Qui-Gon's expression stopped him cold. "What is it?"   
he asked quietly.  
  
"Get dressed, quickly, and come with me."  
  
"What's going on, Master?" Obi-Wan asked, snatching   
up lightsaber and cloak.  
  
"I don't know," Qui-Gon replied, "but I believe the   
Queen may be in danger."  
  
"Where?" the younger Jedi asked, his heart suddenly   
pounding.   
  
Before Qui-Gon could answer, they were met by Eirtae,   
who ran along the hall towards them with her skirts   
held up in one hand, and a blaster clutched tightly   
in the other.  
  
"Panaka?" Qui-Gon asked as the three hurried along   
the hall, he and the injured handmaiden leaning upon   
Obi-Wan for support.  
  
"He's on his way," Eirtae replied. "But-"  
  
"-we can't afford to wait," Obi-Wan finished for her.  
  
~ ~ ~  
  
Sidious collected the lightsabers Amidala and Duncan   
had dropped, and, she noticed, he also relieved   
Anakin of the blaster he held.  
  
"What kept you?" Sidious asked the boy crossly.  
  
"I had to deal with a few security types," Anakin   
replied defensively, and Amidala did not have time to   
feel the entirety of the shock and anger inspired by   
what his words implied, for Sidious stepped forward,   
stopping within inches of her. But his attention was   
obviously elsewhere; he gazed upon young Anakin   
Skywalker with a terrible, single-minded rage.  
  
The Sith Lord's strike, when it came, was quick and   
hard. He backhanded Anakin, and the blow sent the boy   
flying, skidding across carpet to land at Duncan's   
feet. The Senator made no move to help the boy up.  
  
"How many?" Sidious asked, speaking quiet calmly now.  
  
"Five," Anakin replied. "I thought the troops would   
take care of them all." He paused. "Master, we should   
finish this and leave, before-"  
  
"No. For this I have waited-" Sidious might have gone   
on, but he was never given the chance. Amidala was   
upon him the instant his gaze focused entirely on   
Anakin, and with a few quick blows, she brought him   
to the ground, facedown. Twisting one of the Sith   
Lord's arms behind his back, with her free hand she   
relieved him of a 'saber and sent it spinning towards   
the Senator.  
  
"Duncan!" she called out, and he turned towards the   
sound, catching the 'saber in midair. The instant his   
hand grasped it, its blade was ignited, and Anakin   
was forced to freeze least he walk straight into it.  
  
"Nicely done, my dear," Palpatine said, never taking   
his eyes from Anakin.  
  
"Thank you. Now the only question is- what do we do   
with them?"  
  
Instantly she cursed herself for having let her guard   
down even for that brief moment, as Sidious caught   
hold of her shoulders and tossed her aside. She fell   
against the Senator, who caught her, but the damage   
was more than already done.  
  
"I grow tired of these games, girl," Sidious said. "I   
meant to see you dead only because to do so would   
bring my brother pain, but now- now you shall die for   
your insolence, as well."  
  
"Master-" Anakin gasped, reaching blindly for   
something, he didn't know what- and then his hand   
grasped the doorknob, and he turned it, pushed it   
open.  
  
Palpatine took hold of his Queen's hand as Anakin   
gave them both a hard shove towards the door. "Go!"   
the boy screamed.  
  
"Anakin-" the Queen started, but Palpatine's grip was   
like iron, and she couldn't turn back. In an instant   
they were through the door and racing along the   
corridor, at a pace she knew he could not keep up   
much longer.  
  
"Highness!" came Eirtae's voice from somewhere ahead   
of them.  
  
Then Obi-Wan's shout, "Amidala!"  
  
And finally, Qui-Gon's warning, "Look out!"  
  
Senator and Queen collided with Jedi Master, Knight,   
and handmaiden, each of them struggling to catch all   
of the others, then all of them trying to get to   
their feet at once.  
  
"Quickly," Palpatine said, helping Eirtae to her feet   
with one hand, lending Qui-Gon his other arm. "He'll   
be right behind us, I'm sure."  
  
"Who?" the handmaiden asked, turning back to pull her   
Queen to her feet.  
  
"Sith," Amidala replied briskly, shrugging off   
Eirtae's attempts at help. "I'm afraid we haven't the   
time to explain. We must move quickly."  
  
"Head for the throne room," Obi-Wan added quickly as   
he sprang to his feet. "Captain Panaka and his   
Security Force will meet us there."  
  
"One hopes, at any rate," Amidala said quietly,   
thinking of Anakin's words back in the Senator's   
rooms. But there was no time for further thought, for   
she glimpsed the boy coming towards them, his Master   
trailing not far behind. "Quickly, everyone!"  
  
They were off and running then, heedless of any   
obstacles standing in their way, their only thought   
to reach the Security Force before the Sith Lord   
caught up with them. At a place where two halls met,   
they stopped short, Palpatine, in the lead, taking   
hold of Amidala's arm, his grip again like steel,   
stopping her advance. "Hold," he snapped out at the   
others, a command they instantly obeyed, though none   
could have said why.  
  
"Anakin mentioned-" Amidala began, and Palpatine   
nodded.  
  
"Troops. Yes, I know."  
  
And then they saw them, two dozen troops in armor   
white as bone, marching along the hall toward the   
place where Captain Panaka and his men stood guard.   
Amidala withdrew a small glowrod and signaled Panaka,   
who nodded ever so slightly before calling out   
something to his men.  
  
The Naboo Security Force laid down covering fire as   
the Queen's party raced for the safety of the throne   
room. Heads down, weapons at the ready, they ran, the   
injured and the aging propelled by the younger and   
the stronger. Amidala, supporting Palpatine, and Obi-  
Wan, aiding Qui-Gon, were the last to run the   
gauntlet. Just ahead of them Eirtae stumbled as she   
ran, and Qui-Gon reached back a hand to pull her to   
safety.  
  
As she took the last step towards the throne room's   
door, Amidala glanced over her shoulder, and saw   
Panaka stumble and fall back, a charred circle burned   
through his uniform and the skin beneath.  
  
"NO!" she cried out, and turned again, as if to go to   
his aid. "Captain..."  
  
"Amidala, there is nothing you can do for him now,"   
Obi-Wan said quietly. "Come now, quickly."  
  
But she simply stood and gazed upon the body of the   
man who had been both friend and protector to her.   
"Leave me be, Obi-Wan."  
  
Palpatine, barely past the threshold, turned back   
upon hearing her words. "My dear, please..." He moved   
forward to take her arm and draw her into the   
relative safety of the throne room, where even now   
Eirtae and Qui-Gon were availing themselves of the   
Queen's hidden cache of blasters. As he stepped into   
the doorway, a stray blaster bolt struck him, and the   
Senator gasped in pain, falling back, but drawing   
Amidala with him.  
  
"Duncan!" the queen cried out, and there were tears   
streaming down her face now. "Please, no, old friend,   
not you, too..."  
  
"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon called out to his former   
apprentice, and the Jedi Knight stepped between the   
Queen and the still open door, keeping that door open   
only until the last of the Security officers passed   
through it. Once they were inside, Obi-Wan drew the   
door closed and activated its complex locking   
mechanism.  
  
"That won't hold them for long," he advised his   
mentor.  
  
"It'll hold them long enough," was Qui-Gon's reply.   
"At the very least it will buy us some time."  
  
"Time for what?" Eirtae asked.  
  
"Time to regroup," Obi-Wan told her. "That Sith Lord   
out there isn't going to go away, and neither are his   
soldiers."  
  
"You'll have to fight them, then," the handmaiden   
said, and Obi-Wan nodded. "What about us? The Queen-   
the Senator..."  
  
Qui-Gon approached them then, a wry smile upon his   
face. "This won't be the first time I have served as   
the Queen's protector, young handmaiden. Obi-Wan goes   
where I cannot, any longer." He turned to face the   
young Knight. "May the Force be with you, Obi-Wan."  
  
"Thank you, Master." Obi-Wan sighed. "I have a   
feeling I am going to need it."   
  
Qui-Gon shook his head, smiling a bit. "You and your   
feelings... Go on and see the Queen, before you   
leave."  
  
Obi-Wan found Amidala near the large window inset in   
one of the throne room's walls, kneeling beside the   
injured Senator, speaking quietly to him in a voice   
as gentle and soft as velvet. Not for the first time,   
he was struck by the depth of her kindness. She was   
truly selfless, caring more for others than she did   
for herself. Her grief at the death of her friend was   
obvious, but there she sat, whispering words of   
comfort to another.  
  
Amidala glanced up as Obi-Wan approached. She had   
already applied a bacta patch to the Senator's wound,   
and there was little more she could do now but wait,   
and hope.  
  
"Obi-Wan," she said quietly in greeting, as he   
dropped to his knees beside her.  
  
"How is he?" Obi-Wan asked, looking upon Palpatine   
with concern.  
  
"I don't know," the queen replied honestly. "I have   
done what I can, but-" She shook her head, trembling   
more than slightly. "My dear old friend... I cannot   
bear to lose you, as well... please, I beg of you..."  
  
"My dear," Duncan said softly, "mine is not a minor   
injury, and I know this well. But nor, I think, is it   
fatal. Time will tell the tale, of course, but...   
Fear not for me, my lady."  
  
"Shh," Amidala said softly, brushing back a lock of   
hair from his forehead. "Just lie still, Duncan."  
  
"I..." Obi-Wan began, but trailed off, uncertain how   
to begin, uncertain if he should say anything at all.   
"Amidala..."  
  
"You're going back out there, aren't you?" she asked,   
calm, serene. She was, he had discovered, hardly ever   
otherwise. Except when she was angry, and the few   
times he had seen her angry, hers had been the fury   
of some warrior goddess filled with righteous anger.  
  
"You know I have to. Those soldiers, for one thing,   
need to be taken care of before they harm anyone   
else- and I'd like to ask the Security Force to help   
me deal with them, with your permission."  
  
"I doubt that you could stop them from going with   
you," Amidala replied.   
  
Obi-Wan nodded. "I thought as much. And, soldiers   
aside, there is still the Sith to deal with..."  
  
"Stilvin," Duncan murmured, a tear making its way   
slowly down his cheek.  
  
"Sir," Obi-Wan said respectfully, with as much of a   
bow as it was possible to make from his kneeling   
position, "If it could be any other way- But he   
cannot be reasoned with. He will kill us all if we   
allow him to."  
  
Palpatine smiled sadly. "I know, young Jedi. In my   
heart I have known it for years. I needed only to   
realize it, but..."  
  
The Jedi nodded slowly. "I have a brother," was all   
he said, but the Senator's expression spoke clearly   
for his understanding.  
  
He turned to Amidala again. "I wanted to take a   
moment to say goodbye before my departure. In case-   
well. Just in case."  
  
"You'll be back," she said softly, reaching out to   
take his hand.  
  
"So sure of that, are you?"  
  
"Yes," she said.  
  
"There's one thing more, Highness, that I would say   
before I go."  
  
"Yes? Go on."  
  
Obi-Wan Kenobi drew Amidala Naberrie's hand to his   
lips and kissed it gently. "I love you."  
  
"I know," was the Queen's only verbal answer, but she   
reached out and drew him into her arms, and when   
their lips touched it was clear no other words were   
necessary.  
  
When Obi-Wan had taken his leave, Amidala settled   
back on her heels beside Duncan, her expression both   
thoughtful and sad. "These days, old friend, are so   
bittersweet. I had hoped we would never see another   
day like this..."  
  
"I fear we have seen only the first of them," he   
replied. Then: "Amidala."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"If you can stand to hear it, there is one more thing   
I would tell you."  
  
She nodded without hesitation. "Tell me."  
  
"It is a story, but rest assured it is a true one."   
He settled back as best he could against the wall,   
one hand clasping the bacta patch as if to hold it in   
place. Despite the bacta, there was something in his   
eyes that told Amidala he believed it was possible he   
might yet die of his injuries- a possibility she   
refused to consider, having lost far too much   
already.  
  
"Years before your birth, when I was a young man,   
just finishing my years of study at the university, I   
met a woman in Theed."  
  
Amidala smiled then, a bit. "I believe I have heard   
this story.  
  
"No one still among the living has heard this story,   
my dear. If I may continue?"  
  
"Please do."  
  
"I met her in the university's library, and I may   
have loved her at first glance. We spoke of   
everything that day, of life, and politics, hopes and   
dreams. By sunset she knew the deepest secrets of my   
heart, things I had never dared speak aloud, and   
several I'd never known I felt at all.  
  
"She was brilliant and beautiful, enchanting, kind,   
and strong. I loved her more than I have ever loved   
anyone, before or since. I loved her though she was   
noble and I was common as a grassland breeze- and had   
she been anything less than what she was, I might   
have walked away because of that."  
  
Amidala sat perfectly still now, her eyes fixed upon   
him, gaze never wavering. Despite what he had said to   
her when she'd interrupted, his words had the sense   
of the familiar about them. In a way she could not   
explain, she knew this tale, knew it in her heart if   
not her mind.  
  
He spoke of love, and her thoughts turned to Obi-Wan.   
She wondered if she would see him again, or if he,   
like Panaka, would die protecting her. As if sensing   
the train of her thoughts, Palpatine drew a deep   
breath and picked up the thread of his tale again.  
  
"Her parents loathed the idea of she and I, and mine   
feared what would come of it. To her family I was   
nothing, a simple low born merchant's son, and,   
perhaps worse still, a Jedi. And my own friends and   
family, even after all I had done, all I had   
achieved, thought that I reached too high, too far   
above my station. None of them ever understood how   
little those things mattered to her, to me, to either   
of us.  
  
"We wanted more than anything to be wed, but it was   
simply impossible, and gradually we grew to accept   
that. Times are different now, and laws changed- the   
latter, if I may say, partially a result of my own   
efforts. But though I said the same things in those   
days as I did later on, in the beginning my words   
fell on deaf ears.  
  
"We did not need formal ceremony to share our lives,   
however, and so we lived without it, which many would   
even now tell you is quite improper. Of our union   
there was but one bit of evidence that would prove   
able to survive the test of time. Our child. Oh, she   
was beautiful, our daughter. From the moment I laid   
eyes upon her, I loved her. I loved her, and her   
mother loved her, and those first few months were   
sweet as well as sad.   
  
"Sad because I knew then that my love was dying,   
dying of a rare illness for which there was no cure.   
She was dying, and it was forbidden to those of my   
order- for I was a Jedi then, what seems now to have   
been long ago- to raise a child alone. I suppose they   
thought it would prove too much of a distraction, or   
that in light of our occupation, might be rather   
unfair to the child in question, but as always I can   
only wonder at the wisdom of the Council- if wisdom   
is indeed what it is.  
  
"I was heartbroken at her death. I had already lost   
my love, and would soon loose my daughter as well.   
One day the solution came to me; imperfect, yes, but   
a solution that would not take from me completely my   
child. It was arranged, then, that she would be   
raised by a dear friend of mine, who would until her   
thirteenth year raise the child as his own. But the   
year she was thirteen an accident claimed her   
adoptive father's life, and she was once again my   
ward- because there was no one else, no other   
relative willing, though many members of both my   
family and her mother's lived still."  
  
Amidala did not even dare to breathe. She knew,   
instantly, instinctively, how this tale would end. In   
that moment she knew, and her lips parted as she   
prepared to speak, though she had no idea what she   
might say, but Duncan Palpatine was going on, and she   
would not have dreamed of interrupting, not then.  
  
"Though I raised her from that point on, the truth   
was never known. I felt it would destroy too much of   
the life she had built, the life she knew, if I were   
to tell her the truth. But in her own ways this   
child, my daughter, taught me of the importance of   
truth. And so finally the day came when I was able to   
tell her the story of her own life, the story that is   
true- to tell her that the woman I loved, her mother,   
was Theadora Naberrie, and that she named her   
daughter, our daughter, Amidala."  
  
~ ~ ~  
  
With the members of the Naboo Security Force   
following close behind him, Obi-Wan stepped from the   
throne room, lightsaber in hand. He did not   
particularly want to do this. No, he wanted to turn   
around and step back through that door to see to his   
friends, to make sure that Amidala was safe, she and   
Qui-Gon and Eirtae, and to help take care of the   
Senator. But going back through that door would not   
be the best thing he could do to help those he cared   
for, not really. He would do them the most good by   
going to deal with the Sith Lord and the oddly-  
armored soldiers he'd brought with him. And so,   
because that was what they needed him to do, it was   
what he, Obi-Wan, would do.  
  
Even if his thoughts kept trying to dwell upon the   
pained look he'd last seen on the face of Naboo's   
beautiful queen, or the sadness in the eyes of   
Palpatine as he spoke to the young woman...  
  
"You and yours," Obi-Wan said to the highest-ranked   
survivor of the Naboo Security officers, "take care   
of those troopers. I'll deal with the Sith."  
  
"Alone?" the man asked. He sounded a bit skeptical,   
and Obi-Wan couldn't exactly blame him. This Sith's   
*student* had nearly been the death of he and Qui-  
Gon, and despite the necessity of it, he was hardly   
anxious to discover how much better the Master was   
than the Apprentice.  
  
"There is no one else to help me. I have my duties,   
and you have yours. The Queen needs your help. Go,   
man, go!" The Naboo officer went, taking his men with   
him.  
  
With them gone, Obi-Wan went in search of the Sith   
Lord. He did not have to search long.  
  
"I have been waiting for you," the Sith said rather   
calmly as he ignited his lightsaber and brought it to   
bear against Obi-Wan's. "I'm surprised it took you   
this long."  
  
Obi-Wan refused to rise to the bait. "You nearly   
killed your own brother. I do not understand-"  
  
"Fool Jedi!" exclaimed the other, launching a vicious   
swing attack. "You have never understood anything."  
  
From then on they fought in silence, and to Obi-Wan's   
surprise they seemed almost evenly matched. The Sith   
might have had perhaps a bit more of an edge, but he   
had been fighting longer than Obi-Wan today, and he   
was beginning to tire. Obi-Wan wasn't counting on   
that to give him any sort of large-scale advantage,   
but anything, no matter how small, would help him   
immensely now.  
  
As they fought, Obi-Wan struggled to keep a grip on   
his whirlwind emotions. He was angry, angry at this   
man for what he had done today, for causing the   
deaths of friends, for harming others- and, certainly   
not least, for threatening Amidala, the harmless-  
looking old man who was her mentor, and *his*, Obi-  
Wan's, mentor, Qui-Gon.  
  
He was angry and he was afraid, afraid of what would   
become of the others if he failed to neutralize the   
threat of the Sith. But he was also a Jedi, a Knight   
now and no longer an apprentice, stronger than when   
he had faced the Sith Darth Maul, and more sure now   
of what he must do.  
  
And so it was that when it came time for the killing   
blow, he did not hesitate to give it- and a good   
thing it was that he did not, for he was within an   
inch of losing his own life. Even as Sidious' body   
fell, his saber moved still towards Obi-Wan.  
  
The Jedi leapt to the side and down, shoulder   
slamming into the carpeting as he rolled away. He   
snatched up his saber, which he had dropped at some   
point during his fall, and without even pausing to   
catch his breath, he ran towards the sound of shouts   
and blaster fire which marked the site where the   
remaining battle was taking place.  
  
The same Naboo officer he'd spoken to before was   
directing the remaining men when Obi-Wan reached   
them, and it appeared that they did not so urgently   
need his help as he'd thought. The officer spared a   
nod for Obi-Wan, shouted a few more orders, and then   
turned his full attention to Obi-Wan.  
  
"You're a bit late, son. I think we have things under   
control here."  
  
And they certainly did seem to. There were only two   
of the strangely-armored warriors left, facing   
approximately a half-dozen remaining Naboo. Those two   
fell to the Naboo's weapons even as the Jedi watched.  
  
"So I see. Any further casualties?" Obi-Wan asked.  
  
"Thank the Force, no."  
  
"The Queen will be glad to hear that."  
  
The other nodded. "It won't ease her mind any about   
losing Panaka, but..."  
  
Obi-Wan nodded, his thoughts suddenly elsewhere. A   
vision of Panaka, falling dead where he had stood   
defending the Queen, flashed before his eyes. Panaka,   
dead in an attempt to protect the Queen. The Senator,   
injured in same...  
  
"Palpatine!" Obi-Wan exclaimed, horridly turning away   
from the Naboo officer.  
  
"The Senator? He's not-?"  
  
"No. But he's hurt. Send for the medics. Enough to   
see to your men, too. I've got to..." Helplessly, he   
shrugged, glanced in the direction of the throne   
room.  
  
The Naboo nodded. "Go on. Tell them it's over."  
  
"I will."  
  
And then he was off and running down the corridor,   
feet flying over carpet, sliding quickly across   
marble and tile.  
  
~ ~ ~  
  
The throne room, when Obi-Wan stepped past its doors,   
was deathly silent. The atmosphere there was thick   
and dense, with an air of life suspended, of   
expectation; weariness, waiting, and all within the   
room were still.  
  
Amidala was approximately where Obi-Wan had left her,   
kneeling near the window, supporting most of   
Palpatine's weight, his head cradled in her hands.   
Occasionally she reached up to wipe the sweat from   
his brow with a cloth. Her expression was the closed,   
private look of the Queen, but her eyes were worried,   
and tears stained her expressionless face.  
  
Silently Obi-Wan kneeled before her. "Amidala?" he   
whispered, not wanting to shatter the silence that   
had gathered in this place.  
  
She looked up at him and her lips parted in the   
beginning of a smile, but in her arms Palpatine   
trembled, a soft moan escaping his lips, and the   
smile vanished as if it had never been. "Shh," she   
whispered. "It's alright, Father. Soon..."  
  
Obi-Wan's eyes widened in shock, but deep down he had   
to admit that he was not entirely surprised. There   
had always been a kinship between the two of them, an   
understanding which he had known to exist only   
amongst the closest of family.  
  
"You will outlive me...daughter," he whispered.   
Wheezed, really, Obi-Wan thought with a wince.  
  
But he scared up a smile for father and daughter   
both. "Likely he will. The medics should be here any   
moment."  
  
"Stil?" he asked, and Obi-Wan knew that it was his   
brother whom he asked after.  
  
He simply shook his head, and the old man nodded. "So   
be it, then."  
  
Obi-Wan exchanged a worried look with Amidala, but   
before either could speak the doors to the throne   
room burst open. She reached for her blaster, and he   
for his lightsaber, but the intruders wore the livery   
of Naboo medical personnel, and they were proceeding   
quickly towards the trio of Senator, Queen, and Jedi.  
  
A stern-faced woman Obi-Wan recalled as Dr. Eilin   
Voyles, who had tended to Qui-Gon after the Battle of   
Naboo, gently lifted the Senator from Amidala's arms.   
Amidala seemed not to want to let him go, but Voyles   
gave her a look which soothed her somewhat.  
  
"Now don't you worry your pretty little head over   
this one, Highness, hear me? I'll take good care of   
him, and he'll be cursing the infirmary food in a   
week along with everyone else." As she spoke, Voyles   
placed Palpatine's limp form upon a grav stretcher.   
"Let's go!" she snapped at the assistants trailing   
her, brisk and businesslike.  
  
"I am coming with you," Amidala told Voyles.  
  
"And I'm going with her," Obi-Wan said immediately   
after.  
  
Voyles shook her head, muttering under her breath.   
"Certainly not. You're clearly exhausted, every last   
one of you. Rest now, and you can see him later." She   
raised her voice. "Bed rest for every last one of   
you, hear me? Especially you." She leveled her gaze   
at Qui-Gon. "Spent enough time putting *you* back   
together last time around that I'm not about to let   
you..." Still muttering, she headed off with   
Palpatine's grav stretcher in tow, and whatever she   
wasn't about to let Qui-Gon do was unintelligible as   
she exited the throne room and kicked the door closed   
behind her.  
  
"Alright, you heard her," Obi-Wan said. "Let's go,   
Highness." Before she had a chance to protest- and   
she *would* protest, he knew, given the chance -he   
lifted her into his arms and started for the door   
himself.  
  
"Eirtae?" he called over his shoulder.  
  
"I'll take care of the others," the handmaiden   
promised.  
  
  
~ ~ ~  
  
Bare feet sliding silently across the carpet, Amidala   
stole quietly from her bed to the door. Her hand   
grasped the handle, and she eased it open, peering   
out into the corridor beyond.  
  
Behind her, in the chair beside her bed, Eirtae   
stirred. "Highness? The doctor's orders..."  
  
"I am fine," Amidala interrupted her, resuming her   
careful reconnaissance of the hall beyond her rooms.   
It certainly seemed deserted enough, but appearances   
could very well be deceiving.  
  
"But, Your Highness, really..."  
  
"There is *nothing* wrong with me," Amidala   
protested, not for the first time that day. "I am   
going to see my father and the others now."  
  
Eirtae sighed. "Alright. But don't say I didn't-"  
  
Amidala was already out into the corridor by that   
point. "-warn you," the handmaiden finished.  
  
The Queen moved out into the hall, went to take   
another step- and stopped in her tracks, instead.   
  
There, leaning up against the marble facing of the   
near wall, arms crossed, was Obi-Wan. He stood there   
as if he'd been waiting for her, and from the   
disapproving look upon his face, she knew well what   
he thought of her being out of bed so soon, against   
Dr. Voyles' orders.  
  
Amidala thought it a bit ridiculous. She, herself,   
had hardly fought at all. Obi-Wan, on the other hand,   
looked to be at about the point of exhaustion, but of   
course he refused to rest until he was certain that   
*she* would also.  
  
"Out for a stroll, Your Highness?" Obi-Wan asked with   
a wry smile.  
  
"I," she said, "am going to see my father."  
  
"You, Highness, are going back to bed," was the   
Jedi's reply.  
  
She simply looked at him, one elegant eyebrow raised.   
"You will escort me to my father at once." And then   
she stood there, waiting, her expression clearly   
expectant. There were, after all, advantages to being   
Queen.  
  
Obi-Wan sighed. There was just no reasoning with her   
when she was like this. He slipped off his cloak and   
wrapped it about her shoulders. "Here. I'll not have   
you freezing to death." She looked at him again,   
saying nothing, but stuffed her arms through the   
cloak's sleeves, which were a bit long for her. Her   
appearance was hardly comic, but still Obi-Wan felt   
the urge to laugh. He'd made a gallant gesture, and   
she had simply taken it at face value. She *must* be   
truly exhausted, to have let him get away with that   
sort of thing. Not that she was about to admit it, of   
course. If he was still standing, *she'd* still be   
standing, even if it was on a single foot, or even a   
single toe.  
  
"Very well, Highness," he said as he took offered her   
his arm, and she took it. "This way."  
  
Amidala shifted her hand upon his arm. "How are you?"   
she asked.  
  
"Exhausted. And you?"  
  
"As Qui-Gon seems so fond of saying, I'll live."   
Amidala sighed. "I think that I am still trying to   
come to terms with all of this. That has been hardest   
to recover from. Not injuries or exhaustion, but... a   
loss, of what once was. A few short years ago, Naboo   
was a peaceful planet, and I thought that it would   
always remain so. I never dreamed of the ways the   
troubles of the galaxy would find to intrude upon our   
peace here."  
  
Obi-Wan nodded. "These are troubled times, even for   
the most peaceful of societies."  
  
"Yes. And the Republic... the Republic is not helping   
matters. Or what remains of the Republic, anyway."   
Naboo's queen shook her head. "But I cannot single-  
handedly save the Republic. I don't know that anyone   
can. Naboo is what concerns me, what I must focus   
upon."  
  
Obi-Wan was saved from having to reply by their   
timely arrival at the doors to the infirmary, where   
the Naboo officer Obi-Wan had fought beside stood   
guard. The Jedi shrugged helplessly. "She insisted."  
  
"The Queen is the Queen, Jedi Kenobi," the man   
replied.  
  
"Even to an offworlder," Obi-Wan agreed as the guard   
drew back one of the doors.   
  
Beyond that door, they found Dr. Voyles, looking   
anything but pleased. "Jedi, the Queen-"  
  
"-was bound and determined to see your patient, and I   
certainly can't say no to her."  
  
"Won't, is more like," Voyles muttered, but she stood   
aside.   
  
"How is he?" Amidala asked.  
  
"Sore. And for all that it could have been much   
worse, he's certainly complaining enough about it.   
He'll be alright soon enough, provided he rests.   
You'll have to see that he does, Highness, because   
the Force knows he won't take sound medical advice."   
  
Amidala suppressed a smile and shook her head. "He   
does not listen all that well to me either, Doctor.   
If he will not follow your orders, he may not take   
mine, either. But I will do what I can."  
  
"When you get to be his age," Voyles said, "you are   
supposed to know better, but, no, not that one. In   
some ways I think these older ones, your father and   
the Jedi Master, make for the worst patients."  
  
Voyles, like many others who had long served the   
Queen, seemed to have taken the news of Amidala's   
parentage with simple acceptance and a good dose of   
the sensible attitudes so commonplace amongst her   
people. Amidala's foster father had been a good and   
honorable man, but so too was Naboo's Senator to the   
Galactic Republic, and the Queen could ask for no   
better. He was Naboo and he served his homeworld and   
his queen well. For Voyles, as well as for a great   
number of those who knew, it was enough. More than   
so.  
  
"I see that this news does not trouble you, Doctor,"   
Amidala said as if sensing the train of Voyles'   
thoughts.  
  
"And why should it? He has been a father to you for   
years. Anyone can see that he loves you, and you   
him."  
  
"Once again my people show themselves to be more   
understanding than I could ever have hoped them to   
be."  
  
Voyles nodded as if it were no more than she had   
expected of Amidala. The girl did not seem so much a   
queen to her then, though of course she was, and   
Voyles was as loyal a servant of the Queen as could   
be found anywhere in Theed- she did not seem so much   
a queen, but more perhaps the handmaiden she at times   
pretended to be, just another young woman seeking the   
doctor's kind listening ear. Whoever and whatever   
they were elsewhere, within the confines of her   
domain, Voyles' only concern for her patients was   
their health and well-being. She would cure and heal   
even those who protested and complained every step of   
the way, for it was what she did. If they called her   
stubborn, along with a few other things not so   
polite, it was only because she had to be so. Because   
it was her duty to care for them, whatever their   
feelings on the subject might be. Because Eilin   
Voyles was a healer, and a healer would she be,   
always.  
  
Amidala stepped past Voyles and into the small   
chamber where the doctor and her team of medics were   
treating Duncan Palpatine. He looked much improved   
since last she'd seen him, and certainly he seemed   
less likely to loose consciousness any time soon. Her   
father sat up with the support of several large   
pillows, his hands, one bearing the marks of numerous   
injections, grasping a hardbound book taken from the   
Palace library. As she watched, he slowly turned a   
page.  
  
At the sound of the door's opening, Duncan looked up,   
smiled, and set the book aside. "Amidala."  
  
"Hello, Father," she said, stepping forward, if a   
touch hesitantly, to hug him.  
  
He smiled at her as she drew back. "Are you alone, or   
has the Jedi come with you? I see you've appropriated   
his cloak."  
  
"It's on loan, actually," she replied lightly,   
calling over her shoulder to Obi-Wan. The young Jedi   
appeared at her side, and with all seriousness bowed   
to Amidala's father.  
  
"I was afraid for a moment Voyles wouldn't let me   
in," the Jedi told them with a somewhat sheepish   
look. "She seemed to think one visitor more than   
enough."   
  
"One visitor is about all I've space for," was the   
Senator's reply. He gestured to their surroundings,   
and Amidala immediately took his meaning. The room   
was not exactly small, but nor was it large, and   
certainly his own rooms would provide more space- as   
well as a more pleasant setting in which to recover.  
  
"If she ever forgives me for disobeying my own   
instructions, I will speak to Dr. Voyles about the   
possibility of your returning to your apartments,"   
Amidala said. "You'll not be headed back to Coruscant   
anytime soon, but at least it would be a change in   
scenery- and a change for the better, at that."  
  
"Thank you, my dear," he replied. "To be home would   
do wonders for my health."  
  
"How are you, Father?" Amidala asked, and he smiled   
to hear her address him so yet again.  
  
"I'm told I will be sore for quite some time, and   
restricted to light movement for a bit longer than   
that, but I will live. The good doctor tells me I am   
rather lucky, but one does tend to wonder at that,   
left to her tender ministrations."  
  
Obi-Wan chuckled despite himself. "She was the same   
with Qui-Gon, as I remember. I'll ask him to stop by   
later, and the two of you can compare notes."  
  
Palpatine nodded. "Thank you, Obi-Wan. I would like   
that." He paused, looking between the two of them.   
"And you two, are you well?"  
  
"Yes, sir," Obi-Wan replied. "As well as can be   
expected," he added after a moment's thought.   
  
"And the others?"  
  
"A bit shaken up by recent events," Amidala told him.   
"Not that I can blame them at all for that. I, too,   
did not expect things such as this to reach our   
doorstep."  
  
"Naboo issues were central in the beginning of those   
first trouble spots, if you'll recall, and I fear   
that has doomed us to many long years of being   
central to conflicts and episodes we would rather   
steer well clear of." A hint of sadness touched his   
eyes as he spoke of that, and his two visitors knew   
his feelings on that subject clearly as if they'd   
been spoken aloud.  
  
"I fear you are right about that," Amidala said   
quietly. "But we are Naboo. We are brave. We'll   
manage."   
  
She exchanged a smile with Obi-Wan. "We are brave,   
Your Highness," the Jedi said.  
  
"I trust everyone is well, physically?" Palpatine   
asked them, a raised eyebrow his only commentary on   
their rather odd exchange.  
  
Seeming grateful for the change to somewhat less   
troubling ground, Obi-Wan recited what he knew.  
"Eirtae's leg is a little sore from the running she   
did the other day, and I suspect Qui-Gon's old injury   
is bothering him, though he hasn't said so. The Naboo   
Security folks' injuries seem to be minor even at   
their worst." He paused. "There's been no sign of   
Anakin."   
  
"I would be very interested to one day find out which   
side young Skywalker believes himself to be on,"   
Palpatine mused. Amidala raised an eyebrow at that-   
she'd had the same thought, but had not chosen to   
voice it aloud.   
  
"I, too," she replied softly now.  
  
He nodded, looking again from Obi-Wan to Amidala.   
"You seem to be missing a garment, Jedi Kenobi, which   
Amidala seems to have somehow acquired."  
  
A rather un-Queenly blush crept up Amidala's cheeks   
as she adjusted the cloak. She did not, Palpatine   
noticed, make any move to give it up even under his   
scrutiny of the item. "It's a loan," she said again,   
not without humor, but not without a seriousness to   
her voice, either.  
  
"Mmm. Yes. Which brings about another question, my   
darling Amidala." He reached back a hand to adjust   
the pillows, the movement clearly more of a strain   
than it might have been under other circumstances-   
and before his arm had moved very far at all, the two   
of them were simply *there*, at his side, moving the   
pillows until he was more comfortable.  
  
"Yes?" prompted Obi-Wan, who rather suspected he knew   
what was on the older man's mind.  
  
"I've been curious these past few days- lying here as   
I have been, with precious little to occupy my mind-   
I've been curious... What exactly are your intentions   
towards my daughter, Obi-Wan Kenobi?"  
  
In all seriousness, he replied, "My intentions are   
entirely honorable, sir. I love her, and when the   
time is right for it, I would ask for her hand in   
marriage."  
  
Duncan Palpatine nodded, slowly. His sapphire gaze   
flicked to Amidala, who stood the picture of serene   
calmness, observing this exchange. Even through that   
calm, however, that her feelings mirrored the Jedi's,   
was not hard to see at all. And besides which, there   
had been that rather convincing display in the throne   
room several days prior.  
  
To his daughter he gave the barest nod, and then   
motioned Obi-Wan Kenobi towards him. "Closer,   
closer..." And, in a louder voice, to Amidala, "Back   
a few steps if you would, my dear- thank you."  
  
He beckoned Obi-Wan still closer, and the Jedi inched   
forward, until at last he stood leaning over   
Palpatine. Injured the Senator might have been, but   
even lying there, his appearance was anything but   
frail. Sharp, intelligent, and somewhat calculating   
blue eyes stared into Obi-Wan's own.  
  
"If you injure my daughter in any way whatsoever, be   
it physically, mentally, or emotionally, if ever you   
put her in danger or harm's way without cause or her   
consent- and if you ever, ever, in any way, shape, or   
form, betray her, the galaxy itself will not be large   
enough for you to hide from me."  
  
Obi-Wan nodded solemnly. "I understand, sir. And I   
promise..."  
  
Duncan nodded, as if to confirm to himself what he   
had long suspected. "Good lad. I thought as much."  
  
~ ~ ~  
  
Anonymous beneath the cowl of a dusty brown cloak   
that cast his face into shadow, Anakin Skywalker   
walked the streets of Theed. His mood alternated   
between anger and sadness. He had betrayed his   
Master, and because of that, he was probably dead.   
But at the same time, he had not been able to bring   
himself to betray Amidala, or the kindly old man   
who'd stood to defend her.  
  
That one was obviously far more than he'd seemed, and   
far more than even Lord Sidious had hinted at. Part   
of Anakin wondered if he might perhaps be able to   
approach Palpatine to seek his aid. But no. It would   
not be possible. He had saved them, in a way, but he   
had more clearly betrayed them, and they would not   
trust him again- nor should they, he thought.  
  
And in any case, the old man was a Jedi. Or had been,   
which was much the same thing. He was a Jedi, and   
Anakin was a Sith. It was the path he'd chosen, the   
path he'd wanted- the path he still wanted, really.  
  
"I suppose," he said softly to himself, "I am the   
Master now."  
  
"I think not, young Skywalker."  
  
Startled, he turned to seek out the source of the   
voice. Sidious- or at least he thought it was   
Sidious- stood directly in front of him now, the hood   
of his cloak pulled low over his face. Even with so   
many distinguishing features hidden, Anakin had no   
doubts. It was him. Somehow, it was.  
  
"Master? I thought-?"  
  
"That the pathetic child who was the death of Maul   
was also the death of me? Hardly."  
  
"Is the Jedi dead, then?"  
  
"No. The Jedi lived because I allowed it. My brother,   
however, is dead."  
  
"You killed him, Master?"  
  
"From a certain point of view, child. You might say   
that the winds of fate were the death of my brother-   
and that the winds moved at my command."  
  
"How-?"  
  
"Some things are not yet yours to know, Apprentice,"   
Sidious said. "I will answer no more of your   
questions now."  
  
Anakin nodded quickly. "Yes, Master. What- if I can   
ask- what now?"  
  
"For now, my apprentice, we shall wait."  
  
"Wait?" the boy asked, unable to stop himself.  
  
"Until the time is right."  
  
Without another word, Sidious turned and walked   
slowly away. Slowly, and with a limp that spoke of   
some recent injury. Anakin watched him depart, until   
he rounded a corner and was out of sight.  
  
Only then did Anakin realize that there had been   
something different about his Master. He had   
Sidious' voice, and Sidious' face, and yet...  
  
He reached the corner at a run, shoving his way   
through the crowd amid shouts of protest. "My lord!"   
he called, adding his own voice to the chorus of   
exclamations.  
  
But there was no answer. And though he had been only   
an instant or two behind the Sith lord, Sidious was   
gone, having vanished into the crowd as if he had   
never existed.  
  
~ ~ ~  
  
As the sun set oncemore over the city of Theed,   
Duncan Palpatine stood at a window overlooking the   
palace gardens. A dark blue cloak was draped over his   
shoulders to ward against the cold, and he rested one   
hand against the glass, bracing himself. The pain was   
greater than he would admit, and if he were following   
Voyles' instructions as strictly as she expected him   
to, he would still be in bed.  
  
In the gardens below, he glimpsed a cloaked figure   
walking, tall and alone. At first he took the figure   
for his daughter, but it was not Amidala. Of that he   
was certain. The figure turned its head, face cast   
into deep shadow, but he felt the weight of a   
piercing gaze, seeming to look directly into his   
darkened window- into the window, and right through   
him. The figure raised a hand, pale as moonlight,   
weather in a gesture of greeting or of warding, he   
could not say.  
  
Though the evening had not grown that much cooler   
yet, he shivered, closing his eyes. When he opened   
them oncemore, the figure was gone.  
  
Palpatine shook his head, certain at first that   
evening shadows were playing tricks upon aging eyes.   
But in his heart, he knew the truth as he had always   
known it. Alone then, wrapped in his cloak and the   
darkness of his rooms, a sigh rose from somewhere   
deep within him, and he let it make its way to the   
surface unimpeded.  



End file.
